


Fate is a Fickle Creature (aka First Love)

by Dr_wpjt



Series: The Trish & Nikki Saga [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Civilian love interest, Dorks in Love, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, Military WAGs, Romance, Women in the Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 72,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_wpjt/pseuds/Dr_wpjt
Summary: Nicola "Nikki" Shepard was devastated when her childhood sweetheart left Mindoir, but fate is a fickle creature and after a chance encounter years later she had to admit: it was probably for the best.Covering Shepard's career in the Alliance military pre-Normandy and her relationship with civilian OC, Trish Stewart.
Relationships: Female Shepard (Mass Effect)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Trish & Nikki Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845190
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Earth - 2175**

Trish Stewart was carefully weighing up her options. It had been 10 months since she graduated from university and more than a few since she was offered a full time position at the tech company she had done her internship at. At some point she'd have to take her mother's advice and give serious thought to which country or planet she wanted to settle down in and what company she wanted a career with, but tonight she was interested in much more mundane things.

Her attention, along with about three-quarters of the bar, was caught by the lady in a red dress making her way down the stairs. It was a very nice dress to be sure, but the woman inside wasn't to her preferred tastes so she let her eyes drift on, taking in the contents of a rather nice and rather tight pair of jeans.

The bar was heaving with people, military and civilians alike, and even out of uniform she could mostly tell them apart. It wasn't long before a clamoring racket had Trish glancing over to find two marines chugging from yard glasses as their comrades cheered the men on. There had undoubtedly been bets on the result if the cries of dismay were anything to go by, although it didn't seem to make much difference as they all picked up shots from a tray in the centre of the table, downing them with gusto.

There were more than a few good looking people in that crowd but if their clothing was any indicator then they'd left the barracks with other intentions than trying to pull tonight.

...

Trish was crossing the dance floor on the way to the bar when she was caught by a passerby who decided to skip the usual pleasantries and attempted to start grinding with her. She was enraged and repulsed but sadly not entirely shocked.

She attempted to get away, politely at first, in this day and age _sometimes_ that was enough. Of course this time, like a lot of the time, it didn't work and she had to shove them away. When they came right back she was forced to employ a slap but that just seemed to spur the drunk on rather than deter them. 

_Great one of those._ A lot of women would start panicking about now but Trish had one final, surefire trick up her sleeve, quite literally in this case. She just needed to reach her omni-tool and...

"You know, I could be wrong, but I don't think she's interested." A voice interrupted, followed by a solitary pair of well toned arms pushing distance between her and the 'dancer'.

"Oh, what makes you think that?" Came the malevolent reply.

"You mean aside from body language, the dagger glare and the slap?" The voice was strange, somehow it managed to sound carefree and lighthearted, potentially amused even, and yet it _**still**_ contained an undercurrent of warning.

Unfortunately the warning seemed to go right over the intended target's head, her savior clearly noticed too, suddenly switching tactics, her voice lowering dangerously: "Aside from **all** that, there's the fact she's with me."

Trish suppressed a groan, this particular white knight routine had been in existence for decades, centuries even, although bizarrely it often worked. Right now it was 50/50 whether her knight was a genuinely good person or someone who saw the situation and decided to turn it to their advantage, hoping for a 'reward' from a grateful damsel.

Either way, it was rare to sell the act without at least a kiss.

Trish tried to prepare herself mentally, it was important not to show surprise or disgust when the stranger kissed or the game would be up. She could deal with the knight once they were away from the creep. The truth however was that she **was** surprised, no matter how well she hid it, when instead of a kiss the other woman simply took her hand, intertwining their fingers with a: "Come on dear, let's go."

Hand holding had to be the least invasive thing the woman could have done, and yet in a world of easy, care-free sex it was possibly the most intimate action Trish could think of. Sure, sex with strangers would involve roaming hands everywhere, but holding hands was something restricted to people you had actual affection for, it was a strange, twisted thought that threw her through a loop and she hadn't even seen her knight's face yet. She could feel slight calluses on the hand as she was led away though, a sure sign of someone who worked with their hands, or possibly fired guns.

"Sorry about that." The _I'm 98% sure she's some kind of military_ woman said as she let go of her hand and Trish's suddenly felt cold and empty without the contact.

"I've never understood why but some people seem to think being with someone else is the only possible reason anyone could turn them down. And yet... most the time, the people thinking that are the ones you couldn't imagine _**anyone**_ sane wanting to be with..." She shook her head as if it was one of the greatest mysteries of the universe and Trish would have laughed if she didn't have a very important point to make.

"Thanks but it was under control. I didn't actually need rescuing." The _probably a_ _soldier_ looked over at her appraisingly, gifting her with the first sight of her face and suddenly Trish decided she wouldn't have minded terribly if she **had** been kissed. While the media had a fascination with blue or green eyes preferably combined with blonde or red hair, she'd always had a weakness for brown eyes and this pair were staring out of a very attractive face.

"I didn't say you did, but at least this way they wake up in the morning and have to go to work with a raging hangover like the rest of us. Not take it easy in some hospital bed all week." This time Trish did laugh.

"That's your idea of justice?"

The raven haired beauty was saved from having to answer by the barmaid asking for their order. Trish jumped slightly at the intrusion and silently chastised herself, she'd been so caught up in the other woman's presence that she hadn't even noticed they'd made it to the bar.

"Twelve shots of tequila, five lagers, three bitters, two apple ciders, one pear cider, a G&T, stick something on your own tab for when your shift's finished and..." The woman looked at her, eyebrow raised inquiringly, Trish didn't need asking twice.

"SoCo and lemonade."

"... a SoCo and lemonade." She repeated.

There was a slightly awkward silence as they waited for the drinks. Trish desperately scanning her brain for something to say but coming up empty. In the end her mouth decided to come up with something itself, never a good sign, and her ears strained to inform the brain what disaster they'd just fallen in.

"I take it you're not driving tonight then." _Idiot, thanks mouth._

For a moment the woman looked at her as if she'd grown a second head before releasing a chuckle.

"It's not _**all**_ for me." She clarified the obvious. "Pretty sure they'd kick me out the corps if I downed that much solo... Mind you, I'd be a barracks legend for generations!" She said the last part as if it would almost be worth losing her job for. 

_Called it, military. Yeah, thanks brain, wasn't exactly hard to work that one out._

"For the record though... no, I'm not driving."

They were moving again, the soldier now carrying a very large tray of drinks. They stopped at a small, empty table, the SoCo removed from the tray and placed in front of her. To her surprise the mystery lady than opened her hand, offering her a choice of several still individually wrapped twirlers from the bar. It was a testament to how far technology had come (and at the same time how much society remained the same) that the small sticks that changed colour if drugs were detected in a drink were available en masse and completely free in so many bars.

Normally Trish would pick a couple up herself whenever she got a drink and she found it disconcerting that she'd been too distracted to do so. The soldier before her was either insanely thoughtful and considerate, or engaged in some kind of double bluff.

She looked at the selection of twirlers before her, it was always possible one of them could be fake, there were psychological tricks to get a person to pick the item you wanted from a selection of seemingly identical objects and Trish couldn't for the life of her remember what they were. She took the whole selection, rolling them in her hand, throwing them haphazardly onto the table and picking one at random, opening it up and sticking it in her drink.

"Well, I hope the rest of your night goes better." The stranger picked the tray back up, turning to leave, completely throwing Trish through a loop for a second time.

Sure, not every hot lady on Earth was gay and even those who were were allowed to have different tastes and standards. But she'd been sure she'd caught this one checking her out at least once, even if she had been relatively discreet about it.

"Wait, what! That's it? You save a woman from a creep, buy her a drink and then just walk away? Most people would consider that a very good start."

The woman turned back towards her with a surprisingly shy smile.

"Well... you've already had one bad experience for the night, figured I best quit while I was ahead."

Trish snorted.

"Quit while you're ahead?... Better not let your CO hear you talking like that soldier! Besides, I expect you're a much better dance partner than grinder creep."

"Actually I don't dance. At all. In any way."

"Never?"

"Never. **Can't** dance in fact."

"Really? Is my next line supposed to be I'll teach you? Very smooth." Confusion swam in those chocolatey eyes a moment before they lightened as she laughed.

"Wow, I did not think of that one. I think you vastly over estimate my flirting skills."

"Oh? Are you going to tell me you can't flirt next?"

Before the soldier could respond an overly muscled and heavily tattooed arm came down between them.

" **Shepard!** What happened? You're supposed to be getting the drinks." 

"Cheng, impeccable timing as always." The woman drawled drolly, but Trish was no longer paying attention, her brain whirling in shock.

 _Shepard... No, surely not_.

She took a closer look at the woman opposite, past the short cropped hair and the slightly paler skin. Properly looked at the shape of her nose and curve of her lips. She had aged certainly, was more world-weary perhaps, eyes looking older than their _what must she be now twenty? twenty-one?_ years, but there was no mistake.

How had she not noticed? 

_Well, probably because I thought she was dead!_

As the man departed with the squad's drink tray 'Shepard' turned her attention back on her.

"Nikki?"

The soldier gave the slightest nod of agreement as her eyes narrowed in bewilderment before jumping wide open with realisation.

"Holy... Trish!?" A large smile covered the marine's face as she shook her head in disbelief, index finger on her right hand rubbing over her left eyebrow in what Trish remembered used to be an unconscious sign of embarrassment in her former girlfriend.

"Wow... I am _**so**_ sorry... I can't believe I didn't recognise you." There was a beat where they just stared at each other, drinking in the familiarities and slight differences of time before Nikki came back with: "I blame your new hair style."

" **My** hair! What about your hair? What happened to it?" Without any thought Trish reached forward brushing her fingers through the short hair. It had been at least three, probably four, times longer the last time she saw Nikki.

"It got cut." There was that trademark Shepard smirk and for a moment it was like they'd never been apart. For the third time that evening they were rudely interrupted, this time the sounds of smashing glass breaking their reverie.

Trish suddenly noticed her hand was still on the back of the younger woman's neck and moved away. Five years was a long time. She'd had multiple relationships since then, no doubt Nikki had the same, perhaps even with more success.

Besides, even if her ex was single... people changed and feelings faded, she couldn't expect to just pick things up where they left off with her childhood sweetheart.

She searched for a safe topic.

"So, uh... the marines. Never figured you'd join the Alliance."

"Yeah... Me neither... Family farm didn't have the same appeal without the family." Her eyes went distant and haunted, a sad edge creeping into her voice and Trish cursed herself. Her mum's job had whisked her away from Mindoir before the raid but Nikki hadn't had that luxury. 

She remembered being horrified by the atrocities in the news reports five years ago. She couldn't imagine having to witness them first hand.

The melancholy didn't last long however. It was almost as if Shepard wrapped it all up in a blanket and threw it out the window, Trish left scrambling to keep up as Nikki's voice lightened once more.

"Got in as a mechanic actually. All those Earth street runaways and bored colonials in search of excitement just want the combat roles, leaves the Alliance screaming out for skilled craftsmen."

"So does that mean you don't actually have to be in the middle of the fighting then?" Trish asked.

"Ha, no, they've still got that lovely 'Every marine's a rifleman' slogan. _**Especially**_ when the grunts break their IFVs in the middle of battle and need a recovery vehicle to tow them out. What about you though? Last I saw of you, you thought writing complex software code was a hobby."

"Yeah... turned that hobby into a degree, then a job. Still not sure how."

"You're brainy Trish. Always were."

Their conversation drifted then, covering all sorts of topics and it seemed like no time at all until the call went out for last orders and they had to leave, waiting outside for the taxi rank to refill after the sudden mass exodus.

"So, uhh... It was real nice seeing you again Trish." Just like that the brash, confident marine was gone, replaced with the nervous teen she remembered so well from her youth.

"Same. You want to meet up again some time? Grab some food or a drink or, I don't know, something?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"You free Saturday?"

All of a sudden Nikki's face dropped.

"Shit, I can't. Sorry Trish, I... **FUCK!** We're shipping out tomorrow... or, well, later today now I suppose. This was the farewell piss-up. Here's to three or four weeks tee-totalism until someone gets a distillery set up onboard." She raised her hand in an imaginary toast. "I... Sorry."

Trish felt her heart sink. To find Nikki alive and well after all these years only to lose her again the very same night... She did NOT appreciate fate's sense of humour. No. Of all the bars in all the galaxy, the odds of running into each other like this had to be pretty slim, no way was she going to miss her chance.

"Well... How about when you get back? Do you have an email or anything? We could keep in touch."

"Yeah. I'd like that." She repeated and it was hard to tell what shone brighter, Nikki's smile or her omni-tool as she brought it up to forward Trish the details, just as a cab pulled up to separate them once more.

...

A lot of the crew seemed to be suffering from lingering hangovers Shepard noticed as she stowed away her gear in her newly assigned locker. Her own head surprisingly hadn't been too bad, probably as a result of all the talking interfering with what should have been prime drinking time.

Her jaw on the other hand ached with a burn she was more accustomed to on her arms or legs after a heavy workout, she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed and smiled so much in a single night. A notification rung out on her omni-tool and she glanced down to read it.

[Hey, so I had the weirdest dream last night. Turns out you're alive and joined the army. How crazy is that!? - Trish Stewart]

[That is _**so**_ weird. How does your brain even come up with such insane ideas? I mean really, army? I'm Marine corps, Oorah! - Nikki 'Not a zombie honest' Shepard]


	2. Chapter 2

Lance Corporal Shepard was cursing up a storm as she led on a creeper board underneath the M29 Infantry Fighting Vehicle. Just how anybody had managed to damage a Grizzly this bad without even engaging in hostile action was beyond her comprehension.

A message alert on her omni-tool had her rolling her way out and carefully standing back up. She fully expected it to be either new orders, someone requesting an update on the Grizzly or, possibly as an outside chance, one of her comrades asking if she was up for whatever activity they had planned for the evening. She was therefore surprised to find it was in fact from Trish. After years of not knowing anyone outside the service, she was still somewhat amazed at the concept of civilian contact. She looked around the cargo bay for officers to make sure she wouldn't get in trouble before settling on a nearby crate to open the message.

[Just finished work. How's your day been?]

[Ongoing} Nikki took another quick glance around then leant down and snapped a picture of the damaged chassis, attaching it to the message with the query: {You still got that book I got you for your birthday?]

There was a pause but considering the message had to join the nearest comm buoy, zip through two star systems, get read and repeat the return journey she was fairly certain Trish had replied instantly upon receiving it. Shepard's smile at that thought faded into a grimace when she actually read the reply.

[Have you tried omni-gel?]

[Do NOT talk to me about omni-gel! I spent 4 hours clearing off the stuff those idiots on the ground put on. It's only supposed to be a temporary fix to keep things functioning until you're out of danger, putting omni-gel on top of omni-gel on top of omni-gel on top a major problem won't actually mend it!]

[Touchy subject? Well I'm afraid I'm all out of ideas, the only other thing I know that works is to stand around looking helpless until a beautiful woman shows up to fix it :) ]

Nikki laughed.

[Don't think that's gonna work, all the other mechanics on this ship are ugly ass men.]

[Ugly? Terrible. Can't they court martial people for that? Damaging the good reputation of the Alliance for being full of fit people or something?

It's strange though, I'm sure I heard something about a hot mechanic on your ship. What was her name... Nadia... No, Vicki... What was it?]

[Don't think I've seen any Vicki's about. She can't be that impressive if you can't remember her name.

Your plan doesn't seem to be working by the way, looks like I'm going to have to be my own heroine and fix it myself.

I gotta get back to work but thanks for making me laugh.]

[Anytime. Good luck]

...

It was late when Shepard's shift ended. She heated up an MRE and found a table in the mess before opening up the latest message.

[Well today sucked. Tell me about your day so I can remember how much more awesome my job is than yours.]

As was becoming so common lately, Nikki felt her mouth turn upwards into a smile at the email.

Taking her omni-tool off her wrist, she balanced it carefully on the table so she could type and eat at the same time.

[Sorry for the late reply, been stuck on door duty all day. 8 hours of standing around doing nothing but saluting officers when they walk by. I swear one of the Lieutenants just constantly does loops round the ship to piss us all off.

So what happened? Or is it covered by one of those corporate non-disclosure contract thingys?

I swear your employer is even more secretive than mine!]

...

[Hey Trish, just to let you know as of tomorrow we're going to be out of range of regular comm buoys. Might take a couple of days to get any messages and another couple days for replies to get back to you.

Not that you have to message me or anything, you're not under contract, just that if you do then don't think I'm ignoring you if you don't hear back for a while.]

[Woo-hoo! Peace and quiet at last. I'll finally be able to watch TV at night without being interrupted by your messages all the time :)

Thanks for the warning. I know you can't tell me where you are but I'm not stupid, 'out of buoy range' means either outside council space or at the very least away from major shipping routes. Be careful alright, don't do anything stupid.]

[Dammit! There goes my plan to have all the craftsmen hijack the ship, launch a tank out the cargo doors and play giant space ping-pong with the guys on the Berlin.]

[I want video.]

...

[Ouch, time stamp on your message is 3 weeks ago. Sorry for the delay, only just got it, I was planetside with a convoy of M29s. Ship had to leave orbit to deal with something in the next system so we lost our fast-boost-link to the comm network.

Hopefully you've sorted it by now but if that guy's still being a dick you should consider sabotaging his pride and joy. You said it was a '64 Solexa right? If you replace the G34 clips with a B23-12 it will still work perfectly safely but it'll make a horrible high pitch noise when ever he goes above 50. Should stop him speeding til it gets fixed and the two parts look so similar that it won't be picked up on a basic servicing.]

[Wow long time no see. Glad you're still OK.

It's all been sorted, couple of co-workers got involved, but I'll keep your advice in mind if it happens again.

Do I **want** to know how you know that?

And what the hell are _**you**_ doing planetside? I thought I told you not to throw vehicles out the cargo bay door :) ]

[Umm no, I believe your words were 'I want video'. So here you go - **[Error... File size exceeds data allowance...]**

Sorry, joking. Nothing that fun :)

Alliance survey teams on an uncharted world get a marine escort just in case and a token mechanic to keep all vehicles maintained. Which of course meant I was **far** more busy than the infantry grunts.]

...

[So... It looks like I'm going to have to go apartment hunting in San Francisco...]

[You got the job? That's amazing! See, I told you you had nothing to worry about in the interview. So proud of you. So, uh... these omni-tools you're going to be working on... civilian or military lines?]

[Ha, sorry Nikki, Aldrin Labs non-disclosure agreements are even tighter than at my last job, no way I can tell you what I'm working on.

However, on a completely different subject and entirely hypothetically, as a soldier what **would** you like to see improved on your omni-tool?]

[Haha, hypothetically ey? Pretty sure every MOS is gonna have a different answer to that question. Front line troops probably want better shielding but I mostly use my omni-tool in the workshop, biggest thing for me would be better processing capabilities.

Wait... Am I doing your job for you? Do I get paid for this? :) ]

...

[It's official, we've finally changed course and are heading back to Earth. Just a few months left on this tour.]


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard stepped out of the airlock and took her first steps back on planet Earth. Striding purposefully through the crowded dock, her sole duffel bag of possessions slung over one shoulder, she tried to ignore the family reunions of her compatriots going on all around her.

It was always strange returning after a tour of duty and suddenly finding out you'd spent months working and living in close proximity to people with names like Brian, Chloe and Amir. 

She planned on dumping her kit at the nearest barracks and heading into town for a drink but those plans quickly changed when she heard a shout as she neared the exit.

"Nikki!" She twisted her head round in surprise at the familiar voice and saw the brilliant smile framed by golden brown hair walking towards her.

"Trish, what are you doing here?" Her quizzical expression morphed into her signature grin as she queried: "This _**is**_ Vancouver right? The pilot didn't drop us off in the wrong city?"

"No it's Vancouver alright. It's also a bank holiday weekend, so I thought I'd make the most of the extra couple of days off work and welcome you back. Unless you've got something else to do of course?"

"Of course I've got things to do." Trish hid her disappointment well but the soldier still caught it, holding back her smirk as she continued: "At 0600 on the 17th I've got roll call and... Nope... think that's it for plans actually."

"The 17th?" The brunette looked at her in disbelief, "that's two weeks away. You've got no plans for two weeks?" The raven haired marine shook her head with a grin.

"Not unless you want to go grab a coffee?"

...

"Where'd you get that?" Trish asked curiously as Shepard returned to their table carrying the drinks. Nikki followed the pointing finger to the new insignia on her sleeve and deadpanned:

"Quarter Master gave it to me." Trish bit back a sigh, in retrospect it hadn't been the best wording for the question.

"Very funny _Corporal_ , don't get literal with me, you know that's not what I meant. You never mentioned getting a promotion."

"Sorry, it was pretty hectic at the time and by the time everything got back to normal I forgot."

"Forgot you were promoted?"

"No forgot to tell you, it was just after I got that commendation." 

Trish raised an eyebrow.

"That commendation which you  **_also_ ** forgot to mention?"

Nicola was looking sheepish now, hand rubbing the back of her neck.

"It was nothing. I didn't want to worry you."

"If it was something you thought might worry me then it couldn't have been nothing Nikki. Come on, I know you're safe now, so unless it's classified you can spill."

"Fine, but they blew it completely out of proportion." With a resigned sigh she activated her omni-tool searching for the relevant file before offering it out for Trish, the civilian's eyes widening as she read:

To L/Cpl Nicola Shepard

FOR HEROIC ACHIEVEMENT WHILE SERVING AS MECHANIC WITH NO. 2 SQUADRON, 3rd BATTALION, 108th MARINES. WHILE ON PATROL, THE CONVOY CAME UNDER FIRE FROM ENEMY FORCES AND THE LEAD M29 WAS IMMOBILISED. WHILE THE REST OF THE CONVOY CONTINUED ON IN AN ATTEMPT TO ENGAGE THE ENEMY FROM A MORE ADVANTAGEOUS POSITION, L/CPL SHEPARD VOLUNTEERED TO STAY BEHIND AND FIX THE VEHICLE. UNDER HEAVY FIRE THROUGHOUT, SHE SUCCEEDED IN HER EFFORTS ALLOWING THE M29 CREW TO EVACUATE. BY HER UNSWERVING DETERMINATION AND COMPLETE DEDICATION TO DUTY, L/CPL SHEPARD REFLECTED GREAT CREDIT UPON HERSELF AND UPHELD THE HIGHEST TRADITIONS OF THE SYSTEMS ALLIANCE MARINE CORPS.

"Wow... That's nothing is it?"

"I was just doing my job."

"Uh-huh. Tell me, were you in the vehicle that got hit?"

"No."

"So you got out of a perfectly functioning vehicle, one that was heading  _ away _ from the killzone-"

"Well yeah, but-"

"And people were shooting at you?"

"I mean...  _ technically _ I suppose so, but I had a tank between me and them. Most the shots hit the Grizzly. And I wasn't the only one in danger. Only the main gunners stayed in the vehicle, the rest of the crew were outside providing cover fire with their rifles. They didn't get any recognition." 

Trish shook her head with a smile, a familiar but long forgotten pull sparking inside her. It wasn't the 'you're gorgeous' feeling that she'd already experienced at the docks earlier that day, but rather the 'you're amazing' feeling she used to get back on Mindoir. She reached across the table and squeezed the other woman's hand.

"Face it Nick, you went 'Above and Beyond'. You don't have to be embarrassed that someone recognised that."

"Ah come on! I've got two weeks off, let's talk about something else. How long are you in Vancouver? Where are you staying? Normal people talk."

"I fly back Monday evening. I'm staying at my uncle's place while he's out the country and I'm not convinced you have  **_any_ ** idea what counts as 'normal people talk' anymore."

"The weather? I don't know."

"The weather?" Trish chuckled. "That's a short conversation. It's Vancouver. It's cold. End of."

"Finally! Thank you! Do they play spot the Mindoirian with you too? Everywhere I go it's 'come on Shepard, it's summer.' No, no it's not. It's  _ barely _ autumn. I'm pretty sure I remember  **_winters_ ** that were warmer than this back home."

"Why do you think I chose the San Francisco office and not New York. Have you suffered an Earth winter yet?"

Nikki mock shuddered in response to her question.

"Ugh, ice is supposed to be in refrigerators NOT the ground. Oh and while we're on the subject, hockey is supposed to be played on grass!"

"Careful Nick, I'm pretty sure insulting hockey is a treasonable offense in these parts."

"Hey I'm not insulting hockey. Hockey's a great sport, I love hockey! I just don't believe it should be played on ice."

"Why do I get the feeling there's a story behind this bizarre display of prejudice?" Trish asked and there was suddenly a very suspicious silence. "Ohoo, there is, isn't there? Come on, it's no use looking like that! You forget how well I know you Nikki." 

The marine shifted awkwardly in her chair, arms crossing defensively across her chest, as she attempted to stare her ex down. There could only be one winner however and her head dropped fractionally as her hand rose up to rub an eyebrow.

"Let's just say that when I enlisted they asked if I'd ever played any sports at a competitive level... and when I said boxing and hockey nobody bothered asking the poor colonial rube, from a planet where all ice is manmade, which version she meant. Or any other basic questions like: 'have you ever actually worn skates before?'" 

Trish burst out in laughter. "Please tell me there's video?"

"Bloody hell, I hope not!"

"Want me to check the extranet for you just in case?" She waved her omni-tool teasingly.

"I want you to change the subject..." Nikki grouched, before deciding to do it herself. "So, what are we doing tomorrow anyway? Surely you didn't come all the way up here for the weekend without at least a rough plan? A marine might get the wrong idea otherwise." 

As soon as she said it the younger woman glanced away blushing, suddenly fascinated by the pot of sugar sachets on the table. The insinuation was rather tame compared to some of the bawdy conversations she'd had with her comrades over the years, but they hadn't been with civilians and certainly not with her childhood sweetheart. 

Both women were immediately aware of the large, 'elephant in the room' sized topic that had somehow avoided being mentioned in their months of long distance communication. Each thinking:  _ Surely she would have mentioned by now if there was a significant other in her life... wouldn't she? _

Trish decided it was time to roll the dice once and for all.

"Or the  **_right_ ** idea. You never know, if you play your cards right..." 

Shepard looked back up with a hesitant smile, a single rub of her eyebrow belying the relaxed, controlled voice as her face morphed into a cocky grin.

"Hmm, well I  **_have_ ** got pretty good at Skyllian Five... or are you thinking more Happy Families?"

**"** **Nikki!"** Trish slapped her arm but there was a smirk on her face, she hadn't been shocked at the comment so much as the idea of it coming from the adorably awkward and hopeless Mindoirian she'd known all those years ago. 

She paused a beat. Watching the marine closely as she retorted: "Go fish."


	4. Chapter 4

"So... if you've not got any plans until the 17th, do you want to come back to San Francisco on Monday with me?" They had been wandering aimlessly, arm in arm, simply catching up and basking in each other's presence but Trish's words brought the soldier to a halt. 

She briefly wondered if she was coming on too strong, taking things too fast, but then they didn't exactly have a lot of time in which to take things slow. Besides, it wasn't as if she was inviting a complete stranger home.

"I mean... I've still got to go work during the day, I understand if you don't want to, especially since you'd be alone in a strange city all day but you could, I don't know... be touristy..."

"Be touristy?" Nikki chuckled and Trish just knew she was in for some teasing now. She didn't particularly mind though, there was something about the subtle shift in body language and a general vibe in the air that made her believe she knew what the end answer was going to be. She just hoped she was right. "I can't remember the last time I had fun going somewhere just to 'be touristy'. Really not your best argument there."

"Hmm, well... it's also warmer than Vancouver." Trish offered, stepping closer, eyes cast down as she fiddled with the collar on the marine's uniform. 

She wasn't used to being nervous or uncertain in these situations, usually she positively radiated confidence and certainty, but she found herself desperately hoping she didn't do anything to mess this up. A finger under her chin lifted her head and she found herself looking into teasing eyes, a half hidden smile still visible on the soldier's face.

"Now  **_that_ ** is a much stronger argument. I'm starting to consider it."

"And I do get a couple days off. Plus the evenings would be free..." She trailed off as Nikki closed the remaining gap between them, resting her forehead against her own.

"Ok, you talked me into it." 

The kiss started off tender but it soon heated up, a neediness overcoming them as they rekindled the embers of a flame that had never truly been extinguished. 

Eventually they had to pause for air but the break was short lived, lips crashing together once more as if their continued existence depended upon it. Shepard was unsure which of them let loose the soft moan but it helped bring her attention back and she gently pulled away.

"Trish... We should stop this while we still can."

"Maybe I don't want to stop." She was light headed but just about aware enough to catch the small smile on the marine's face.

"Me neither,  **_but_ ** call me boring... I don't feel like spending my leave in jail for indecent exposure." 

Trish slowly came back down to earth, becoming aware of their surroundings once more; the old couple sat on a park bench watching them with knowing smiles, the teenage boy looking at them wide eyed and practically drooling. She took a reluctant step back.

"Maybe you're right... To be continued?" Nikki's response was to throw an arm around her shoulders with a laugh as she dragged her back into a walk.

"Oh yeah.  **_Definitely_ ** to be continued."

...

"Shit!" It was the sight of the uniform that did it. When Nikki heard the front door of the apartment opening her first instinct, after the almost compulsory expletive, had been to grab something to cover Trish up with. A noble gesture which would have been much easier to accomplish if they'd been on a bed instead of the couch. 

As the newcomer entered the living room a flash of blue and gold caught Shepard's attention, years of training automatically taking over and causing her to instinctively leap to her feet, snapping to attention before her brain could even attempt to process the situation. As the marine stood ramrod straight and completely naked apart from her dogtags in front of an Alliance Admiral, she couldn't help but think that this particular deeply ingrained drill was the complete  **_opposite_ ** of a lifesaving reflex.

"Uncle..." Nikki didn't dare glance back to see if Trish had managed to cover up yet, a mantra of swear words sweeping silently through the inside of her head. A subtle clearing of the man's throat put paid to any hope of any further back up from that direction.

Nick just hoped the situation was as unexpected for him as it was for her. She  _ really _ didn't want to think what it would mean about Trish's love life if this was a regular occurrence. He certainly hid his shock well though. The ever so slight break in composure hidden within a fraction of a second.

"Name?"

"Corporal Shepard, 108th Marine Corps, SIR!" She rolled out, reverting to the familiarity of protocol to navigate the choppy waters, not shifting her gaze from a spot on the wall directly ahead of her and several inches to the right of the officer. 

Then he stepped directly into her line of sight and she felt the blood in her veins freeze under his icy blue stare.  _ Oh, Fuck. You've got to be shitting me! Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck! _

She'd known for years that Mrs Stewart's younger brother was in the Alliance, remembered hearing from Trish how her uncle had been promoted to Rear Admiral... but at  **_no_ ** point did she ever recall anyone saying the relative in question was THE mother fucking 'Hatchet' Hackett, mustang of mustangs and legend of the First Contact War. 

**_Shit!_ **

Shepard did the only thing she could in the situation: kept her face blank, eyes front and didn't move a muscle. 

The Admiral's gaze however was free to roam and he took in the discarded clothes on the floor, the leftover takeout and empty bottle of wine on the table, his eyes hardening as they finally focused back on the marine in front of him.

"I suggest you double time it out that door Corporal and never come near my niece again."

"Sir, no Sir!"

"Excuse me?" The voice oozed danger but Nikki didn't back down.

"Trish is a civilian Sir, fraternization regs don't apply. I'm aware you can still bust me a hundred different ways to Sunday and understand you being protective of family Sir, but with respect, it's not your decision to make. If Trish wants me out her life now or at any point in the future then I'm gone, but until that day I believe she's worth fighting for Sir."

The silence seemed to drag out for eternity as Hackett's eyes bored into her. He had been protective of the girl since her father died he would admit. Not  _ overly _ protective as far as he was concerned, just... justifiably so. 

He'd run off more than a few hopefuls over the years. The powerful combination of his death stare and the violent scar across his face weeded out more than a few on their own. Some contenders would promise to leave his niece alone only to attempt to keep seeing her behind his back, those were the cowards he hated most. Others had voiced a similar opinion to the marine before him; that neither his position as Uncle or Admiral gave him a right to interfere in his niece's affairs. However it was the first time he could remember a prospective partner listing Patricia, and not themselves, as the person who's decision mattered.

"You've got balls Shepard, I'll give you that."

"I think we can all see that's not the case Sir." The perfect deadpan delivery was followed immediately by shocked widening of the eyes as Shepard realised what she had just said and to whom. For the first time in the conversation Hackett caught a glimmer of pure panic break onto the woman's face, lasting the briefest of seconds before schooling it back into the perfect parade ground mask.

A smothered giggle audible from his niece drew his attention, fortunately she had managed to cover up all the areas he had no desire to see on a blood relative. 

He analysed her face and body language closely, she was far more relaxed than should be expected considering the situation, but still with an undercurrent of anxiety that, if he read her right, had more to do with concern over what he'd do next rather than embarrassment of being caught. 

Her eyes practically begged him not to mess this one up for her, but there was also something else in those blue orbs that he'd never seen reflected there with anyone else before. His eyes flicked back to the marine.

"If you ever hurt her..." He subjected the woman to his best death glare but she didn't even flinch.

"I'll be the subject of unimaginable and entirely justified retribution. Message received and understood Sir." He eyeballed her a little longer, searching for the slightest hint of deceit or maliciousness. Finding nothing he graced her with the slightest of nods.

"Dismissed Corporal." 

Shepard threw an immaculate salute, pivoting in a parade ground perfect about face and marching towards the door.

" **Corporal!** " She froze. "Put some clothes on before you leave my house."


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey you." The voice that picked up was sleepy and slow and Shepard made sure to keep her voice soft as she replied.

"Hey babe... mhhm, I could get used to this." She'd left San Francisco late the night before and today was to be the first time they were apart following a whole two weeks together. 

Well... more or less. 

Trish had still had to work during the day, but they'd made the most of every moment they had together. 

Nikki wasn't sure if it was her words or her tone of voice or just Trish's brain finally waking up enough to process earlier details, but there was sudden movement and her view of an only  _ partially _ duvet covered body transformed into a face.

"You're vid calling? You never vid call!"

"Never been close enough to not get lag before." She replied with a shrug and a smile. 

Trish's own grin faltered slightly as she caught sight of the uniform. Nicola sure looked good in it, but after two weeks in civvies (the majority of which they'd had to go out and buy) it was a sobering reminder that they wouldn't get to see each other in the flesh again for a very long time.

"Have they told you what your next posting is yet?"

"Yeah, I got another week here in Vancouver to make sure my EVA and zero-G training is still up to date before I ship out though. Hey, do you remember stargazing on top your house back on Mindoir?"

"Yeah... Why? What's that got to-"

"Shh, I'm reminiscing." 

"You what?!" The look on Trish's face had the soldier biting back a laugh.

_ Oh I  _ **_definitely_ ** _ need to use vid call as much as possible. _

"Reminiscing, you know: to recollect, remember, revisit..." The glare was priceless. "What? You spend as much time staring out the window during Standard literature and language as me you're bound to pick up a few synono-nonono-nyms." 

The civilian's laugh brightened up the room even though they were nearly 1300 kilometers apart.

"Wait, why look out the lit class windows? That was just the parking lot."

"Trish, I looked out  **all** the windows at school! History had the best view though."

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah I know, but I'm your idiot." It rolled off the tongue without any thought and Trish felt her heart warm.

"Yes you are and I love you for it."

"That reminds me, reminiscing!" Any negative thoughts that might have threatened as Nikki completely glided over her admission barely had a chance to be felt before they were overtaken by a swirl of confusion at her next words. "Do you remember what you said when I asked how much you loved me back on Mindoir?" 

Trish was completely lost now as she desperately tried to think back, eyes widening suddenly as the memory hit.

"That's not fair! We were teenagers, I didn't know you were going to grow up and get a job traveling all across the galaxy."

"Come on, tell me what you said then... Please?" Trish looked at the screen and the wide smile shining back at her, the glint in the eye that made her just know Nikki was up to something and she sighed in defeat.

"I said I love you to the moon and back."

"You never said which moon."

"What? Nick... It's too early for this, my brain's not working yet. Does all this reminiscing have a point?"

"My next posting... Luna base 3." Trish's mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of a response, finally settling for a groan.

"All that... I hate you!"

"Love you too babe." The only response was a lifted arm and raised middle finger towards the camera, and the mechanic couldn't resist chuckling.

"That's it. I'm not talking to you anymore." Trish threatened. 

"Yeah right, I give it a week. One week of looking up at the night sky, watching the moon shining back at you and thinking: 'I wonder what that insufferable bitch is up to now?'."

"What'd be the point of looking at the sky? You don't even ship out for a week!"

"Details Trish, details." She waved a hand dismissively. There was another groan on the San Francisco side as an alarm started blaring, Trish flopping her arm around until she hit the right button to silence it.

"I've got to get ready for work."

"Hey I'm not stopping you!" Nikki grinned and it took her a moment to process what she was seeing as a pillow flew towards the camera, looking very strange happening an inch above her wrist and cutting out about a foot away from her, the image suddenly changing to a tilted view of the bedroom floor. 

She couldn't have stopped laughing even if she wanted to. "Was that supposed to hurt me?"

"No, it was supposed to shut you up. I warned you my brain doesn't do mornings... I've got to go, can I call you after work?"

"Sure. Send a text through first though in case I'm busy. Have fun at work."

"Yeah right. Hey Nick?" Trish waited for an acknowledgment before she continued. "We should vid call more often." 

The marine's face lit up.

"Definitely."


	6. Chapter 6

For the majority of earthborn marines Luna wasn't just the big bright shape in the night sky but the location of their first (non-simulated) zero-G training. It was the place where the training wheels came off. The lack of atmosphere turning what had seemed like trivial mistakes back on Earth, that surely didn't deserve that much shouting and beasting from the Drill Sergeants, into potentially fatal experiences.

Having enlisted in the Traverse, Shepard's training had been conducted in different, far flung locations and so this was her first trip to Luna. She couldn't help but be filled with a sense of awe at the sight of Earth glinting in the sky. The crisp blue shape mottled with greens, browns and swirls of white cloud was stunning against the dark black of space. She may have been a native Mindoirian, but the sight of humanity's birthplace was truly breathtaking.

It took a couple of minutes of admiration before she recognised the shapes she could see as the American continents and was hit with the realisation that somewhere down there was Trish. 

She raised her omni-tool to snap a picture and attached the file to a message, only pausing when she had to think of some text to include. 'I can see you' or 'I'm watching you' both seemed a little creepy, she briefly considered the minimalistic 'Boo!' before settling for: [Well hello there beautiful.]

It wasn't until after she sent it that she suddenly remembered that they no longer shared a time zone and she was still desperately trying to work out the time difference when a notification popped up. 

[Well hello there] 

The nearly word for word reply was accompanied by a picture of a gibbous moon, large against a star specked sky, and followed almost immediately by: [Are you free to talk?]

...

Luna was certainly a strange posting, Nikki reflected as she looked around the gift shop for a suitable present for Trish. Despite her work days revolving around keeping the training base's squadron of tanks and IFVs in top condition, there was actually relatively little military presence on the moon. 

The vast majority of the 4 million population was in fact civilian, the opinion being that if an enemy got this close to Earth, there wasn't a lot a surface defense force on the moon could actually do and it would be a better use of Alliance personnel to keep them on the fleets, use Arcturus station as a choke point for the Charon relay to prevent unauthorised ships reaching the Sol system in the first place, and on Earth itself. 

The original settlement had been founded in 2069 with the intention of mining Helium 3, then the discovery of eezo changed the course of technology, suddenly rendering obsolete a resource that countries had been willing to kill over. There was still some mining and industry present, but an estimated 36% of Armstrong's economy was tourism based.

Normally the semi-permanent staff of the training base didn't get out much, but they'd finally waved goodbye to the last load of boot camp recruits and had a couple of days to themselves before some spec op troops were due to arrive for advanced training. The maintenance crews for both ground and flight vehicles had decided to requisition,  _ well... more like liberate, umm... 'test drive'? That's it. They needed to 'test drive' _ a couple of vehicles, just to make sure they were fully functioning for the training exercises ahead, and somehow Nikki had ended up dragged along to the Apollo museum.

A smart thinking entrepreneur in the early days of colonization had swept the moon's surface for any remaining 20th century visit debris and had acquired the majority of the ascent and descent stages left behind from Apollos 10 through to 17; as well as the Lunar Rovers from Apollo missions 15, 16 and 17. They had combined these with a variety of vids and photographs to make some interactive displays, including a mock up of the Kennedy space station mission control. 

Even Shepard had to admit it was pretty impressive, even if she didn't bother reading much of the handy info along the way as she focused on the pre-eezo vehicles. It hadn't been long before she ended up in the gift shop.

There was the practically compulsory: "My [insert here] went to [insert here] and all I got was this lousy t-shirt", available at all good tourist attractions across the galaxy. 

There was the frankly awful: "I was the man on the moon". 

Then there were pictures of famous historical astronauts, photos or schematics of early space ships. Posters and stills for the earliest known sci-fi film "Voyage dans la Lune" by Georges Méliès with a bullet like space capsule sticking out of the moon's eye, available in both colour and black and white prints plastered on every gift imaginable.

So far however Nikki's personal favourite was the 'Luna Dairies' series, featuring a cow in an old fashioned space suit and bubble helmet, complete with the slogan "Best cheese this side of Hollywood."

Her browsing was interrupted by a commotion near the door, three Alliance uniforms with familiar looking occupants scrambling excitedly into view.

"Hey Shepard, did you know they're renting out replica Apollo Rovers?"

"Let me guess, you've broken them already?" There was a flood of denials and a particularly emphatic 'not yet' as the mechanic rejoined them with a grin.

...

"So, umm... Please don't get mad at me babe, but there's something I probably should have told you..." 

It was a good job the basic functions of the human body worked on automatic; Trish wouldn't have known whether her heart rate was supposed to double or stop completely when she heard those words. 

"Last time we had a night out in Armstrong we ran into these asari scientists at one of the bars... I didn't mention it before because nothing happened, but it's starting to freak me out now. They keep trying to invite me out to play golf. I can't work out if it's supposed to be a euphemism." 

Trish burst out laughing.

"Oh god, it is, isn't it? I keep saying no but they keep asking. I don't even know what they mean!" Tears streamed helplessly down the civilian's cheeks at the look of pure panic and confusion on Nikki's face. She tried to reassure her girlfriend but couldn't get the words out, merely shaking her head in amusement. "What? What am I missing?"

"I'm sorry Nick... You actually had me worried for a moment there." She nearly broke down in hysterics again but pulled herself together when she saw how lost and bewildered the soldier looked. "It's probably because of your name." 

Apparently her explanation didn't ring any bells, then again that should hardly be a surprise, the younger woman had readily admitted how little attention she used to pay to Mrs Lewis in history. 

"You know, Alan Shepard? Second human in space, fifth man on the moon? First person to hit a golf ball outside the Earth's atmosphere. On, coincidentally, the moon. That place where you, Corporal Shepard, are currently based. They probably think you're related." Relief and understanding dawned.

"Oh! So when they say golf, they just mean golf?"

"Yes dear. It's not a euphemism. You can go out and play golf with asari if you want to and I won't get jealous."

...

"Bloody hell Nikki, what happened? It looks like someone dropped a crowbar on your face!" 

Shepard winced. Silently berating herself for not checking if the call was just audio or video as well before answering. She didn't argue as she obeyed her girlfriend's hand signals, angling the camera for a better look at the purple and blue bruising across her jaw.

"No, just a fist. The Spec op guys are dicks-"

"They hit you? What the hell for? Have you filed a complaint?"

"Calm down Trish, one question at a time. He's in the punishment block as we speak and they're just sore losers. No sense of humour either." 

There was a groan from the Earth side of the vid-link. "What did you say?"

"Hey! A moment ago you were willing to rip through the Alliance's best and meanest for me, now you're assuming it's my fault!" The indignation was clear in the soldier's voice but there was no sign of guilt or remorse as Trish raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Are you going to try telling me he still would've hit you if you'd kept your big mouth shut?"

"Well... Ok, no, probably not. But there's a bloody long back story behind it...

* * * 

The sound of the interior airlock doors opening had Shepard looking up from her job replacing a cut fuel line to see the recovery vehicle driving in with yet another M29 casualty on the back. 

A tilt of her head had the technician that had been helping her running over to assist the driver with unhooking the Grizzly as the vehicle's crew filtered out the hatch and back to the barracks. 

She finished her own task, making sure her tools were clean and secure before heading over to check it out.

"They can shoot and they can kill but they can't drive for shit." Shepard muttered as she surveyed the assorted debris that had turned up in her workshop over the last two hours. She was startled by a deep rumbling chuckle and turned to find a dark-skinned man in his late 30s had managed to sneak up on her despite wearing a suit of heavy armour.

"Think you can do better Corporal?" She stiffened into a salute. There was no visible rank insignia on the armour but the N7 logo on the chest guaranteed he outranked her.

"Shooting and killing? No Sir. The driving? Hard to see how I could do any worse. Erm... Can I help you with something Sir?"

"Just checking if the Grizzlies will be ready for 0300."

"How many do you need?" She was already calculating work times and which jobs she could siphon off to other people in her head. It was a tight deadline that guaranteed she wouldn't be sleeping tonight but she couldn't exactly tell an N7 no because of that.

"Ten."

She winced.

"I'm afraid I can only guarantee you seven Sir, possibly eight, I haven't had a chance to run diagnostics on that one yet." She pointed towards the newest casualty, aware that everyone else in the workshop had stopped working, focusing on her conversation as they pretended to be busy. For the first time in the posting she wished there was someone who outranked her in the garage so they could have this discussion instead of her.

"If you push the exercise time back four hours I can get you one more Sir, but that's the best I can do." She awaited the enraged blowback of how she should do what she's told and get it done but the man seemed relatively calm, as if he was doing his own mental arithmetic of how to get around the limitation. Unfortunately her mouth didn't know when to stop moving. "Love to get you more Sir, but I'm afraid I only have one pair of hands."

"Really? What about the others?" He raised an eyebrow inquiringly, indicating the other mechanics hanging around, all making surprisingly little noise for a working garage.

"Smyth and Singh are flight mechanics." She gestured to the two gods in human form, helping scrape off the hated omni-gel despite the fact that they were perfectly entitled to sit around on crates watching and muttering 'not my department'. 

"They're only qualified to work on shuttles and fighters, not ground vehicles. Garcia's still an apprentice, he can do the basic work but your guys insist on breaking things in creative ways. At the moment I've got him replacing burnt out clutches and brake pads. Of course I  _ could _ just give him a toolbox and tell him to do whatever he thinks is right, but I can't guarantee the vehicles won't fall apart or explode on you if I do that. I certainly won't be able to sign off on them."

"So it's just you then?"

"Near enough Sir. Kuznetsov is fully qualified but doc won't let him out the infirmary."

"Ok, I get the picture. I best let you get on with it, as many as you can manage Corporal."

...

Shepard stood outside the door, datapad in hand, psyching herself up. There were so many reasons she shouldn't attempt what she was about to do but they'd already 'acquired' a few spare parts from the other Luna bases and were still going to run out. Short of going around the garages in Armstrong that worked on the civilian VT7 variant and 'commandeering' their stock, she couldn't see any other way. 

She knocked.

"Come in." She entered briskly, stopping before the instructor's desk and snapping a salute. "At ease Corporal... Shepard wasn't it? What can I do for you?"

"Yes Sir, I need you to sign a requisition order please Sir." 

His eyebrow shot up.

"It's my understanding that the base already has a system in place for requisitions. Why aren't you going through the chain?"

"I've already worked through my monthly quota of parts and put in several extra request forms Sir, the first ones arrived no problem but the later ones are being delayed. I was kind of hoping an N7's signature would speed things up a bit. After all, without the parts I won't be able to maintain the vehicles needed for your training exercises."

"Did they say why there's a delay?" There was a notable hesitation before she answered.

"Not exactly Sir, there was an... implication, that we shouldn't need any more yet. After all the monthly quota is usually ample and we've gone through twice as many parts in half the time."

"I can read between the lines Corporal but it's tiresome, speak freely. I didn't earn my N7 by being an expert at everything, I earned it by becoming an expert on a lot and knowing when to listen to others on the things I'm not. You're basically saying my trainees can't drive."

"Not  _ exactly _ Sir, I'm sure they're all capable of passing driving tests on Earth... It's more that they're not driving properly for zero-G and they have so little understanding of what's behind their vehicle that they don't think about it. For example... Say your rifle overheats, it's an inconvenience sure, but you just swap to another weapon and wait for the heat sinks to cool back down. It's as if they're driving with a fighting mentality, but if you burn out a clutch then that's dead. Nothing in the world is going to make that part safe to use again, not even omni-gel. Speaking of which... someone should inform them that the myth about the 'miracle properties' of omni-gel are largely an advertising lie. If the first batch of omni-gel doesn't work then it means it's not going to fix the problem, not that you just haven't used enough of it. All the additional three or four pouches does is make it take longer before we can start fixing the problem back in the garage."

Shepard finally paused, fighting the urge to rock slightly on her heels as she realised that 'permission to speak freely' or not, she probably shouldn't have said quite so much to someone so much higher up the chain of command than her. Instead of any of the vast variety of expressions she may have expected however, the officer merely studied her analytically.

"Maybe we can help each other out Corporal. I have been trying to get my superiors to make advanced zero-G and plus-G driving mandatory much earlier in the N program without success. My proposal is this, I authorise your requests for parts and you take on my trainees in a driving challenge. You seemed pretty confident you were better than them in the garage." 

_ Balls, he remembered that. Wait, how does this help him out? _ The confusion must have slipped through her mask.

"If a corporal beats the brass's golden boys then maybe they'll understand what I've been trying to tell them... and even if they don't, personal pride will dictate the current batch at least will seek improvement." 

_ Well that's just great for you but I still don't see what's in it for me? _

"Of course a challenge is nothing without stakes, so when you win I will ensure my men scrape all omni-gel off their vehicles after exercises before they can head to the mess." 

It was certainly a tempting offer but Shepard wasn't a  **_complete_ ** idiot.

"And what if I lose?"

"I thought you were confident in your abilities?"

"I am, but with respect Sir, the whole point of your MOS is that you don't play fair. I'd rather know the stakes going in than be surprised later." To her surprise he actually allowed a slight chuckle.

"Fair enough... If you lose... My men may apply their entire combined quota of omni-gel on the vehicles, broken or not." 

_ Shit, talk about double or nothing. Ah well, what the hell, not my problem... if I lose the rest of the mechanics will kill me instantly _ .

"Only if it's applied on the last day of training, not before."

"Agreed. So do we have a deal?" 

Shepard considered a moment longer before accepting the instructor's outstretched hand.

"Yes Sir I believe we do."

* * *

"Well, I'm not going to bore you with a turn by turn commentary, but naturally I won  **_and_ ** without sustaining any damage to my vehicle." Nikki finished telling Trish the tale with a particularly smug look on her battered face.

"So... You won the race and they punched you? That's not the whole story is it?"

"Couple of them broke down again."

"Ah... Go on."

"Well... I took the recovery truck out to pick up the vehicles..."

"Mhmm."

"And I asked them if they wanted a lift back to base..."

"Or?"

"Hey! How did you know there was going to be an 'or'?"

"This is you we're talking about Nick, there is  _ always _ either an 'and' a 'but' or an 'or' involved." 

Shepard smirked, not even attempting to deny that one.

"Ok, so I asked if they wanted to be towed back  **_or_ ** if they'd rather drive the truck back while I fixed the Grizzly, then I'd drive that back and still beat them a second time!"

"You didn't." Trish groaned. "Talk about adding insult to injury. You actually said that to a bunch of N7s?"

"NO! I'm not THAT stupid, give me some credit. I'm not suicidal... They were only N3."

"Ohhh, they were only N  _ Three _ ! That makes it all ok then. Did you at least learn a valuable lesson?" Trish asked in a rather condescending tone.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Always keep my guard up and be ready to duck." 

The civilian laughed.

"No doofus, I meant don't insult the spec op guys."

"Pfft, or at least only do it over comms..." 

Trish shook her head.

"Well look on the bright side, you may have to mess about with medigel for a few days but at least you get a break from omni-gel."

"Bah, I think that N7 bastard was playing me the entire time."

"I thought you just said they were only N3s?"

"Yeah no, the  _ trainees _ are only N3, their instructor's an N7. Anderson baited that trap perfectly and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. I don't have to mess about with omni-gel anymore but now I've proven my superiority over his guys and got their respect, they want  _ me _ to teach them how to drive properly. My days just got a whole lot longer."


	7. Chapter 7

All Trish wanted to do after work was put her feet up and relax, unfortunately she had to get the house ready for Nikki's return the next day. By the time she reached the front door she had decided that dinner would be the first microwave meal to come to hand, but as she entered her ears picked up the faint strain of music and her nose was assaulted by a tantalizing smell that did nothing to curb her mounting hunger.

There was of course always the slight possibility of a particularly inept or confident burglar being in the house, but the whole 'anti-crime' concept of breaking-and-decorating had for the most part been a 60s fad that died down. 

No, Trish had her own suspicions about what was going on.

Crossing the threshold to the kitchen, a light smile graced her lips as her eyes landed on her beloved marine, still in uniform, tending a multitude of pots and pans on the stove. Nikki's head turned round, eyes seemingly lighting up with happiness as they landed on Trish, her first words spoken seemingly without any trace of sarcasm or irony:

"You're back early, dinner won't be ready for another half hour." 

The vid calls had been a godsend, each one truly amazing, but they were nothing compared to the real thing just standing there. The urge to rush over and jump into her arms was almost unbearable, but she was highly aware of the hot stove and boiling water, the last thing she wanted was to burn her lover. Instead she leant casually against the doorframe, if Nikki could fein nonchalance so would she.

" _ Yeah _ , because I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow and  **_I'm_ ** the early one?" 

Nikki responded with a carefree shrug.

"Heard a rumour of a private shuttle making the trip, pretty much begged, bribed and blackmailed my way onto it. I can leave now if you want? Come back tomorrow when I'm supposed to?"

"Oh I would never be that mean... you can finish cooking before you go!" 

Shepard smirked, turning back to her work and Trish took the opportunity to sneak up behind her, wrapping her arms round the soldier's waist and snuggling close, head resting on her shoulder.

"So, what you making?"

"Shepard's special surprise."

"Oh really? And what's in it?"

"Meat, rice and sauce with a dash of spice and a handful of vegetables." Trish could tell the quest for more information was a battle she wouldn't win.

"Sounds good... I can already guess dessert."

"Really? I hadn't decided yet. It's between apple turnover and-..." Nikki trailed off, understanding dawning as she shuddered under the kisses to her neck. "Oh you cheeky minx! Control yourself when I'm cooking please."

"It's not  **_my_ ** fault. You're the one who turned up without warning, in my kitchen, after months away,  **_and_ ** wearing that sexy uniform."

"Oh I see, so if I want to avoid harassment next time I come home I should change into civvies first?"

"Well, I can't guarantee you won't get ravaged simply by turning up but there's no harm in trying. Ooh, one of those old fashioned long aprons with nothing underneath, that might work." 

Shepard barked a laugh.

"I know what you're doing you know and I'm not falling for it. You're trying to distract me and sabotage my cooking so you can claim to be the better chef!"

"Foiled again!" Trish pressed one last kiss to her girlfriend's jawline before releasing her and going to make a drink. For a moment the boiling kettle and sizzling pans were the only noise in the companionable silence.

"So... you'll never guess what I managed to get hold of." Such a claim was almost certainly true but Trish still had to appear to try.

"Uh, the complete works of Agatha Christie?" Nikki just shook her head. "Ooh, a Ming dynasty vase?"

"What would we even do with one of them? No, much better... Bananas!" There was an impressed gasp before Trish thought to seek clarification.

"Hang on, do you mean bananas or  **_bananas_ ** ?"

"Nope, real, proper, honest to soil, organic bananas. None of that fake, mushy, cube crap. They're in the bag over there." Nikki would have sworn her partner teleported she moved so fast. The half made coffee forgotten on the worktop.

"Can I have one?"

"That was kind of the idea when I bought them." The soldier was still stirring the pots, just about able to see Trish in the corner of her eye. She spun round suddenly when she noticed her peel it and take a bite. "Wait, you're eating it raw!?"

For the briefest of seconds Trish panicked, thinking there was something wrong with the fruit. She quickly dismissed that idea, confident that Nikki would never bring anything dangerous back without at least warning her first. That analysis was confirmed when she looked in Nikki's eyes, instead of concern for her safety the marine looked more like a child who'd just witnessed someone kick a puppy.

"How else am I supposed to eat it?"  _ Yep, kicked a puppy, pissed in the fish pond and then stolen all the candy. _

"How else... Not 'I'm too hungry to wait' or 'I just prefer it that way', but 'how else do you eat bananas?' You seriously don't know?" She sounded so incredulous that Trish had no comeback. "My  **god** , I'm living with a barbarian! That's it, dessert is cancelled."

"What! Which version?"

"Both types! All of them! No other desert is acceptable until I have initiated you in the ways of the banana. I'm going to need some chocolate, preferably with nougat or caramel in, possibly some..." 

_ This is like when she found out I couldn't swim all over again... _ Trish thought as Nikki continued listing ingredients for various banana orientated meal plans.  _ Mind you those lessons were fun. _

"Of course for savory you just can't beat fried banana and tuna... I think I'm going to need some more bananas." 

_ This is getting out of hand. _

"You're seriously willing to risk turning down guaranteed sex tonight to teach me about bananas?" It sounded even more absurd out loud. There was a pause and for a moment Trish thought the soldier would backtrack like any sane person would do.

"Well... I've survived this many months without it, I'm sure one more day won't kill me."

"And what makes you think you'll only have to wait one more day?" Her own body was protesting the threat even as she spoke it, she caught a momentary glimpse of worry on Nikki's face before it disappeared behind a grin, two parts cocky to three parts salacious:

"Oh after you've tasted what I can do with bananas, you'll do anything for me babe." 

There was no containing the laugh that erupted from her, the corners of Nikki's lips twitching in response as she struggled not to join in.

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm." Nikki's eyes were sparkling with mischief and Trish couldn't seem to tear her gaze away. Fortunately she had other senses and she caught a whiff of-

"Your Shepard surprise is burning." Nikki spun around with a curse, muttering about sabotage as she worked to salvage the meal. "Thought you weren't going to fall for that?"

"I didn't! It's all part of the plan!"

"You  _ planned _ to burn the food?"

"... That's the surprise! Adds flavour and er... crunch."

Trish smiled. 

Vid call was all well and good, but nothing beat the real thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking and decorating is a nod to Sir Terry Pratchett, I'm pretty sure it was in Soul Music, but it could have been another book, definitely part of the Discworld series though. 
> 
> The rest of the chapter is pretty much a result of me realising I had some spare bananas and deciding to recreate my favourite pudding from childhood, then wondering what these two would do with the recipe.
> 
> If anybody's interested you want to put some water in a frying pan, make a little boat out of tinfoil, peel the banana, slit it lengthways then push chunks of chocolate in the gap (Mars bars, double deckers and galaxy caramel are among my favourites, but anything that melts well and has more than one texture should work), pop the food in the tinfoil, heat until it reaches you're preferred level of gooeyness and enjoy.


	8. Chapter 8

"Honey I'm home!" There was none of the usual mad flurry of limbs. No impassioned assault of hugs and kisses. There wasn't even a long suffering sigh and roll of the eyes at the choice of greeting. 

_ She must be in the bathroom _ , Nikki thought as she went to set the shopping bags down in the kitchen. However there was still no sign of Trish by the time she'd put everything away and a quick search of the house found her in the living room, eyes glued to the TV. 

Nikki recognised the show as one Trish had introduced her to the first time she stayed over, before the posting on Luna. She knew it was her partner's favourite, but was still a little put out that she chose to look at the TV over her. 

Then again nobody was perfect. 

It was almost slightly endearing actually. 

Besides, in the grand scheme of things an obsession with a TV show was a fairly minor fault to have. At least it wasn't drugs or hookers. Nikki couldn't help teasing her about it though, just because she chose to accept facts, didn't mean Trish had to know.

"Ok, note to self: don't bother coming home when Hooves and Harlots is on."

"It's not called that."

"Oh I'm sorry, 'Ponies and Prostitutes'." That at least got her partner to look at her, although the price was a laser sharp glare, the marine refused to break under the pressure however and instead she dared to utter: "Madams and Mares'?" Trish shook her head in defeat as she returned her attention to the screen and Nicola smirked in victory. "Horses and Whor-"

"Nikki, sit down and shut up or I'm kicking you out!"

"You might want to wait for an ad break before you throw me out, you might miss something." As if to prove her point the rider of the brown colt finally caught up to the runaway filly, catching hold of it's reins and bringing it to a halt.

" **Shepard!"** The soldier shut up and sat down.

She didn't complain as Trish pushed and prodded her into a more comfortable position for them to snuggle up together, receiving a belated peck on the cheek. Her own attention was soon drawn to the events on screen. They sat entwined, surrounded by a companionable silence until the rider returned to the barn. Jumping down from her mount with a splash of mud, she led the runaway horse back into it's stall before pressing the thankful owner hard against the wooden door, capturing her lips in a searing ki-

"Wait! What? I thought she was with Ysabel." Nikki couldn't help interrupting. Fortunately Trish didn't seem to mind so much when the disruption was a question about the plot.

"That was months ago babe, ohh you missed the whole thing with her and Lana."

"Lana? What, the accountant? I thought Lana was with Frankie!"

"They broke up."

"Seriously? They were good together. Is  _ anybody _ still with the same partner as the last time I watched this?"

Trish actually had to stop and think a moment before answering.

"Mike and Helen are still together."

"Well  _ of course _ Mike and Helen are still together, they'll be together til death do them part. My money's on double assassination by the way, eventually they're going to get frustrated enough to hire outside help... How did Mike survive the poisoning?"

"He still had an antidote from the time he tried to poison her."

"Ah..." There wasn't really a lot else to be said. Shepard supposed the show would make more sense if she watched it more often, but she couldn't imagine ever enjoying it as much as Trish seemed to.

...

{-passes to Tyra T'Sansis, only 162, this young maiden has long been touted as one to watch}

It seemed a little silly to listen to the live sports coverage on her omni-tool when she was actually at the game, but Shepard wasn't too proud to admit she wouldn't have had a clue what was happening without it. 

There was a grace and beauty about biotiball, but it was also mercilessly complex and Nicola had given up trying to work out why some tackles were classed as fouls while other, more dangerous looking moves were considered perfectly legal. 

Her confusion about what was happening was limited to the pitch however, she understood the reasoning behind hosting a primarily asari biotiball tournament on Earth, despite not yet having any native teams. Sport had long been a uniting factor among humans, bringing them together even as it divided them on which side to support. 

Shepard had only been three years old when First Contact was fought, but was into double digits by the time human biotics started manifesting on a regular enough basis to be properly noticed by the public as anything more than rumours and conspiracy theories. They were different and people were always afraid of what's different. So many people still treated biotics as freaks. 

With luck, events like this would help change the public's views, as well as provide kids just discovering their abilities with hope. A positive outlet for their skills and possible role models, even if they were asari.  **_If_ ** of course, anyone could get their heads round the rules long enough for the sport to gather a fanbase.

Nikki couldn't imagine having chosen to come if Trish's coworker hadn't been ill and offered them his tickets, but despite her confusion she was still enjoying the experience. 

A sudden, high pitch beeping of a pager alert caught her attention, but a glance down at her omni-tool failed to reveal a message.

"Hey pumpkin, I got to go." A voice just behind and to her right answered the question of the noise's origin.

"Again?"

"Yeah, again. I'll take a cab, leave the car so you can get home-"

"So generous!" The words themselves could be taken multiple ways, Shepard could imagine her and Trish using them in jest, but here they sounded far more frustrated than teasing.

"Come on, you knew... Ugh, you know what, I don't have time for this!" 

Nikki felt her row of chairs shift slightly as the giant of a man pulled himself up, making it several seats down the aisle before he was interrupted.

"Wait! Be careful ok?"

"Don't worry, I will be. Hey, I'll be back before you know it."

"WHOO! Did you see that?" Trish's call pulled Nikki's focus back to the game, her sense of unease fading along with the memory of the interruption as she became fully submerged in the high octane sport unfurling in front of her.

...

"And that tackle on what's her face... number 7."

"It  **_was_ ** pretty awesome, but I still don't get how that wasn't a foul-"

"It wasn't dangerous-"

"She threw her 20 foot into the air!"

"Yeah but it was controlled Nick. There was no risk of head, neck or spinal injuries on landing, that's what it's based on."

"You got the rest of the rule book memorised too?"

"Nearly." They sported identical smirks as they strolled arm in arm down the road, pressed as close together as they could while still maintaining a decent walking speed. "Oh and that charge in the second half! So fast it was like lightning!"

"You know, it's starting to sound less like you enjoyed the game and more like you've got a crush on T'Sansis."

"Aww you jealous? Don't worry Nick, you've got something she'll never have."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Brown eyes." 

There was a snort.

"So all it would take to lose you is an asari with contact lenses? Good to know." It was meant to be a joke, she'd said it teasingly, but she couldn't help a flicker of doubt as the words left her mouth.

"Never!" She missed the rest of Trish's reply, drowned out by an angry hubbub of the crowd up ahead, people shouting to check out the news. Curious they pulled the channel up on their omni-tools, only to be greeted by the dreaded scrolling text: 'Breaking News'

{-identity not yet confirmed, but these pictures remain the last transmission received before communication was lost with the Vetus system. So far Alliance…}

" **_Batarians!"_ **

Trish turned towards the sound of the low growl, she'd seen a lot of different emotions on her partner before but never the strange volatile mix that was there now. She could make out anger and sorrow but it was hard to pick out all the different elements that combined together on her face as a scowl. Hesitantly she placed a light hand on the soldier's arm.

"Hey, you ok?" The darkness cleared from Nikki's eyes slightly as she turned to face her, offering up a reassuring half smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." The smile faded. "It's the poor sods on Elysium you should worry about." A shake of the head kicked out the remaining negativity before it could fester, replacing it with, well… not quite positivity, but at least a certain amount of practicality: "Come on, there's nothing we can do about it out here. You're sure this is the right way to the restaurant?"

...

They'd just made it to the front of the queue to be seated, and were waiting on a waitress to make it back and show them to their table when the beeping was heard once more, this time accompanied by a faint vibration on Nikki's wrist. 

The message was short enough for her to read twice in no time at all, glancing back up in time to see the apprehension clear in Trish's eyes.

"You've got to go?" 

The soldier nodded.

"Recall notice, return to unit- Hey, where do you think you're going?" Trish had turned to leave the restaurant, reluctantly resigned to their fate, but Nikki forestalled her. "I've got 24 hours to report to Vancouver, it's what? A seven hour journey? Let's say for argument's sake that  _ all _ the fleets have been called to arms and traffic will take twice as long... that still leaves us with plenty of time to eat. Come on, let me at least have one more good meal before I end up back on the MREs."

It was Trish's turn to flounder in a tide of emotions; worry and concern for her marine, uncertainty over what Nikki would be forced to face, anger at the fact their already rare time together was being cut short, guilt and regret over the selfishness of that last thought. 

Somehow she managed to dig deep and force a smile on her face, ignoring her racing heart. Shepard could see the stress building in her partner's eyes but there was nothing she could do to help dispel it. 

Without a word spoken out loud, they both resolved to make the most of the next few hours. Ignore the inescapable reality and pretend for a brief moment that it was still a normal day.

There would be time for teary goodbyes later.


	9. Chapter 9

"Nikki? I wasn't expecting to hear from you this soon."

"Yeah well, nothing was happening, thought I'd grab one last vid call while I still can."

"What do you mean 'nothing's happening'? I thought it was supposed to be all 'hurry, hurry, quick, quick, emergency war footing'!"

"Well yeah, it was... now it's hurry up and wait. You know what it's like: you plan a night out on the town then just as the last person turns up and you're all ready to leave, someone realises they've forgotten their lucky condom and-" Shepard was interrupted by an involuntary snort.

"Lucky condom!? What is that? Like every time they wear it- wait... you know what, I really don't want to know." Nikki's look of confusion morphed into horror as realisation hit.

"Eww, that's nasty! I did not think that sentence through before I said it. Ugh, and I really wish I wasn't thinking about it now. That's disgusting. What were we talking about?"

"Everyone's there ready to leave and someone forgot something. So what, did they forget to bring the guns?"

"Oh no, they remembered the guns... It's the ship we're waiting on!"

"You're joking!"

"Nope. Thousands of marines and no ship, look." She twisted her arm so Trish could take in the sea of Alliance blue uniforms loitering around the docks. She noticed something a couple of bays over.

"What about that one over there? Why don't you see if you can sneak onboard that."

"Which... Oh, the Poltava? No thanks. I'll wait." They both knew there was no choice in the matter, the Alliance had designated which ship Nikki was to be stationed on and there could be no swapsies. That didn't mean they couldn't joke around though.

"Oh, so you're being picky now."

"Come on, it's a frigate." The soldier spoke the word disdainfully. "Sure it's one of the best, but they're tiny, you can't fit more than two Grizzlies in the cargo bay, I'll wait. Besides it's not like I'm going to get bored, they provided us with some light reading." She waved a data pad in front of the camera.

"What is it?"

"Hmm, let's see..." Nikki made a show of scrolling through the contents as she answered. "Classified, classified, Rules of engagement. Classified, clas- no wait, another copy of the regs. Good job they don't print them out anymore, we'd have enough to make a life size model frigate. Classified... then the rest is just the usual pre-deployment forms. Will and testament, that sort of bollocks."

Trish's easy smile faded.

"Lovely and light. That must do wonders for morale, isn't it a little ominous?"

"Nah, just standard procedure." Shepard dismissed, seemingly unfazed. "Normally you get it a couple of days before you ship rather than on the docks but whatever. At least they give you a copy of your old one to edit now, instead of expecting us to come up with it all again. Most people just read through and hit resubmit without changing anything. Although..." For the first time the marine showed signs of hesitancy, rubbing the back of her neck.

"What is it?"

"Well... I'm not too sure the best way to... fuck it! Do-you-want-to-be-my-emergency-contact?" It came out as a garbled rush, Trish thought she heard it correctly but wasn't entirely certain.

"Umm, what?"

"You don't have to of course. I mean it's not as if I'm going to need it anyway and I've always just kept that whole 'next of kin' section blank before-"

"Nick slow down sweetie, it's alright. What would I have to do?"

"Nothing, they already know all my medical restrictions and preferences. They would just contact you if, well they won't but... you know..."

Trish felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing inside her chest, making it hard to breath as she finished the unspoken implication ' _if Nikki dies_ '. She did her best not to let her uneasiness show.

"Ok, you can put me down."

"Oh good, cos I already gave you all of my physical crap in the will and that would just be awkward if my hoodies showed up without you knowing why." Shepard's voice was light despite the highly claustrophobic atmosphere and Trish wasn't sure she appreciated the soldier's dark humour right now, but she forced herself to respond in kind.

"Well that was close, I was just about to tell you to be careful but if I get your hoodies, well..." A peal of warm, genuine laughter rung out, it was a truly wondrous sound, Trish had always liked it but she never truly appreciated it before today. She should have kept things light, continued joking around and try to catch that glorious sound again, but her curiosity had been roused and she couldn't help asking: "What did you do about all that stuff before?"

"Hmm? Oh! I've always had my money set to go to charity, the guys who helped out Mom. That's not changed by the way, if you were considering hiring an assassin to get rich quick." There was that brilliant smirk and Trish wondered how Nikki could remain so cavalier about it all. "Never bothered putting anything down about physical possessions before. Not as if I had many and there was no one to dump them on so I never really thought about it. I suppose the Alliance would've just thrown it away or donated it to a charity shop or something, I don't really know."

A loudspeaker crackled into existence but the words were drowned out by the noisy response of the marines all around.

"Sounds like that's my ride..." In the background Trish could see people standing up, collecting their kit and generally getting ready but Nikki didn't seem to be making a move to join them. She wondered if the soldier was secretly just as nervous as she was, just better at hiding it.

"You don't seem to be in much of a hurry."

"Ha, I'm not. This isn't my first ship posting, I know how this works, it'll take ages for everyone to board, might as well make the most of a few more minutes relaxing. Besides all that rushing to be first is pointless. There's no 'first come first served bonus', all the important decisions like the hot-bunking system gets worked out for us. I mean sure, if I hurry I might be able to get a locker 30 metres closer to the sleeping pods, but that's about it."

The conversation trailed off, Trish unable to think of a response until she noticed the way Nikki was watching her.

"You ok there Nick?"

"Hmm, yeah. Just trying to save you up here." She tapped her forehead with a finger.

"Pretty sure I gave you some photos."

"Yeah but it's not the same."

"No, it's not."

"I think Luna spoiled us, it's going to be hard going back to text only communication."

"No argument here. Still... I'm glad we had it."

"Yeah... I should probably go..."

"Ok, take care of yourself."

"I will, you too."

"Love you."

"Love you too..." Trish watched as Nikki stood and picked up her kit.

"Hadn't you better hang up?"

"I thought you were going to hang up." Nikki stated as she started walking towards the boarding queue, making no effort to end the call.

"No, you hang up first."

"Why don't we both hang up? On three, ready?"

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" They each stared pointedly at the other, raised eyebrows doing the job of accusatory words.

"You know there's another comm in the house, I could totally call my uncle and ask him to order you to hang up."

"Ooh, low blow! You wouldn't? What the hell am I talking about, I wouldn't put it past you. I can just imagine it, it'll come over the loudspeakers: 'Corporal Shepard, hang up the vid call! You have ten seconds to comply or face court martial'. You'll visit me in the brig right?"

Trish laughed but refused to give in.

"Only if you hang up first."

"Fine, you win. I guess this it then. I'll see you when I see you."

"Stay in touch."

"I'll try... Bye." Nikki's face vanished as she finally cut the connection and Trish was left alone with her thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

"Attacks on our colonies will not be tolerated. Relief work is already underway and our engineers are helping to stabilise the structural damage to Elysium in preparation for rebuilding, but rest assured, those that fled will not escape. We will find them and we  **_will_ ** bring them to justice." 

It was always strange seeing her Uncle Steve on TV. Trish had caught sight of him a few times in the past, taking part in parades and memorial services, normally if given a choice he tried to avoid having a speaking part. She had no doubt he'd made plenty of speeches to the men and women under his command, and sometimes he'd read out pre-prepared statements to the press but they tended to be short and to the point. He preferred action not words.

Her uncle's face disappeared, replaced by that of the newscaster: "Admiral Hackett went on to praise both the professionalism and quick reaction times of the Alliance fleets and the grit and determination of the colonists who held out against the attack in a medal ceremony earlier today..."

Trish scanned the faces of the assembled marines as the camera panned across the crowds, hoping for a glimpse of Nikki but couldn't see her. She didn't even know if her girlfriend was planetside. The mixed species conglomerate of slavers and pirates responsible for the attack had apparently been unprepared for the speed and ferocity of the Alliance reaction force. The first wave of ships blasting the enemy vessels from orbit like fish in a barrel, F-61 Tridents launching from carriers to engage in low atmosphere dog fights while marines were dropped on the capital city of Illyria, fighting their way through ground forces to relieve the beleaguered defenders.

By the time the second wave arrived enemy forces were already attempting a scrambled retreat, the third wave turned out to be unnecessary and held back at the Charon relay awaiting further orders. The only logical explanation for the one-sided beating was that the pirates had expected to be in and out much quicker and had spent their credits on personal weapons and armour rather than ship upgrades. They likely would have been as well if it hadn't been for the actions of-

"Private Orion, who defended the North East sector single handedly for 9 hours before finally succumbing to his wounds shortly after relief forces reached his position, was posthumously awarded the Star of Terra..." 

The biotic looked so young in the picture they showed, smiling proudly in his uniform. As they launched into a retrospective of his far too short life she found her mind drifting back to her own smiley marine, wondering what Nikki was up to now. It wasn't long before her omni-tool was out, composing another message to send despite the fact she hadn't heard back to any of the other ones she'd sent in the last three days.

...

[Hey babe, thanks for the messages, they mean a lot. Sorry I've not had a chance to reply to them earlier, we've been real busy. Afraid I can't tell you what with, you know how it is. I miss you too... and now I've spent too long trying to figure out what to say and I'm needed again. Just gonna send this as is, will try again later. Love you, Nikki]

Trish read and reread the message so many times. She was glad Nikki had sent the half written message anyway instead of holding on until it was finished and polished, it had been wonderful to receive something from her marine and know she was safe. 

Even  _ if _ she had to stop her mind from getting carried away with speculations over just what Nikki had been needed for that had resulted in the early sending.

...

[You will be pleased to hear that I am bored. Now I know what you're thinking Trish, you're going to try and deny it and claim that you're really sorry to hear that and you wish I had something to do, but let's just lay it out a moment: If I'm bored then it means a) I'm not currently in combat and b) I've finished doing every possible task I need to do with the vehicles so it's been awhile and we're not expecting anything in the next couple of hours either. Therefore I'm safe. You're happy I'm safe. You're happy I'm bored. See?

Oh, and I totally get what you said in your message about you thinking of me at really random and awkward moments, it's been happening to me too. Just the other day I was working on one of the M29s and I thought: 'I wish Trish was here, scraping off this omni-gel instead of me!' 

Nah seriously though, I know I don't get to message you anywhere near enough but I do think about you a LOT. I'll try and message more often but can't promise anything. Love you, Nikki]

[I'm not entirely sure why I'm replying, you seem more than capable of filling in my part of the conversation! :) 

I am glad you're safe and well, for the moment at least. Contrary to your opinion however I do hope you find something to do and don't have to stay bored for too long.

Otherwise next thing I know I'm going to get a message about how you decided to count how many separate components are needed to make a cruiser and was busy dismantling the ship from the inside, while traveling at FTL speed, in order to count the parts and everybody onboard is slightly dead now all because you were bored.

Maybe you should find a hobby. You know you could always try and catch back up with the show... Lana and Frankie are back together now. Love you too, Trish]

[Ha, you know me too well! I promise I'll start small, maybe start with counting how many nuts and bolts are in a grizzly, at least I know how to fix one of them if I mess up. Much as I know you love Hooves & Harlots I'm afraid I'm going to have to give that one a pass. Seriously though, they're back together? Frankie's a bigger idiot than I thought! Love Nikki]

[I thought you liked Frankie and Lana? You know I'm keeping track of every time you insult my show right? When you get home you will be punished.]

[Promises, promises. I honestly don't know whether to be worried or excited, are we talking like withholding of chocolate rations or something a bit more  _ physical? _ I need to know how many more times I can insult Hooves & Harlots before I end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

And yes, I admit, I did think Lana and Frankie were good together, until Lana cheated. The amount of crap she put Frankie through, I'm sorry, but Frankie's an idiot for accepting her back. If I was ever stupid enough to do something like that I'd expect you to kick the crap out of me, not take me back after I dragged you through hell just cos I said I love you...

Aaaaand now I got to sign off this message saying I love you, good going Shepard... Miss you lots and lots, Nikki]

...

[Hey Trish, I know this is going to sound really random but if Mount Everest was declared the tallest mountain on Earth in 1852, what was the tallest mountain before then?] 

Trish looked bemusedly at the message on her omni-tool, trying to work out why she had been asked. With a shake of her head she opened up the extranet to do some research.

[Alright Nick, I have no idea why you want to know but before 1852 the tallest mountain on Earth was Kangchenjunga. It's also in the Himalayas like Mount Everest but was later proven to be only the third tallest mountain on Earth with an elevation of 8,586m. Oh and in case you're wondering, it's taller than anything on Mindoir. Have they limited extranet access on the ship or are you just too busy to check?]

[Ha, you're wrong! I thought you were supposed to be clever! Before 1852 the tallest mountain was Mount Everest, it was still the same height even if it hadn't been measured by anyone.]

[Seriously? I put actual research time into that and you were just messing about? I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be mad right now.]

[Aww I'm sorry babe, please don't be mad. I wanted to message you but couldn't think of anything to say. There's got to be only so many times I can type 'I love you, I miss you' before you get bored reading it.]

[Alright I forgive you, and for the record I never get tired of reading your messages. I miss you too. Love Trish]

[That's good to know because I seriously love and miss you so much and I never know what to write. It used to be so much easier on the vidcom, at least if I fucked up and said the wrong thing I could apologise straight away, but I never know how things are going to come across on text. 

So... if I got two candles of equal wax content but one was a long, thin green candle and the other was a short, fat blue candle, which would burn longer? Just curious. Love Nikki]

[Really, again? Whatever happened to that Lance Corporal "I better quit while I'm ahead" Shepard I met in a bar the other year? If this is like the last question you asked me then I'm going with neither, candles burn shorter not longer. 

So is this a thing now? Am I going to get weekly riddles? Love Trish]

[Not that I mind! Just re-read my message and thought I best make it clear, I have NO problem with this being our thing. - Trish]

[Weekly? You want  _ weekly _ riddles? Guess I'm going to have to talk to the Sphinx more often. If you don't hear from me for more than a fortnight assume my brain imploded from his sneaky twisty ways. The risks I take for you, it's a good thing I love you, Nikki. 

(PS She got promoted... and a girlfriend. I'm still not sure which one to blame for the attitude change)]

[The Sphinx? Is that a person or one of those strange military slang words you guys seem to have for everything? Oh and formerly Lance Corporal Shepard has a girlfriend now!? Why am I always the last to find out about these things?]

[Fine, Private Spinks. When a man with a surname like that confesses he likes riddles what else are we supposed to call him?

It can be hard work talking to him sometimes. Still, at least he knows when to turn it off, could just imagine it in battle: What has fins, is shaped like a discus and about to kill us all? GRENADE! 

We are talking about the same Corporal Shepard right?]

[Black hair, brown eyes, about your height... Terrible sense of humour. No taste in TV shows... I think she's supposed to be a mechanic.]

[Must be a different one. The one I'm thinking of has an awesome sense of humour!]

...

[Sorry I got no idea what time it is over there but are you free to talk? As in like audio call, lets say between now and the next 15 minutes?]

"Nikki, is everything alright?" There was badly disguised panic audible in the civilian's voice.

"Yeah of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"You mean other than the fact you asked me to call in the next 15 minutes when we've been text based for months? I thought you were in hospital!"

"Oh,  **_OH!_ ** No, I'm sorry, I didn't think about how that would sound. I just wanted to hear your voice, I've missed it."

"Just my voice?" Trish's voice became coy as the fear faded.

"And the rest of you."

"Missed you too. You sound tired."

"Ha, I am tired! I'm supposed to be sleeping right now but I heard we were going to be passing a comm buoy, figured it would be worth being tired for, I missed your voice."

"You said that."

"Sorry."

"It's alright, you can say it as much as you like, I missed yours too."

"Well  _ clearly _ not as much as I missed you. I missed your voice, I missed your voice, I mis- Wait, this isn't right. Why am I doing all the talking? I called you to hear YOUR voice!"

"I think you'll find I called you."

"Well I would have called if you messaged that you were free instead of panic calling."

"Yeah right, I bet you did it on purpose."

"I didn't, I... We're not seriously going to spend our time arguing about who called who are we?"

"I don't care what we're talking about as long as we're talking. If you've got a better topic then I'm all ears."

"I hope not! Your ears are nice but I happen to like your eyes and that cute little nose... Your boobs are still boobs right? I know I said I'd love you no matter what, but if your tits and fingers and toes are all ears now I might have to change my mind."

"What are you even-... you're stupid!"

"And you're made of ears! I bet that's the reason you didn't vid call, you didn't want me to see you."

"What? You said audio call!"

"Yeah, yeah blame it on me." Even without video Trish could hear the smirk in her girlfriend's voice.

"Hey, I'm up for vid call if you are?"

"The lag's probably going to be terrible, but we can try if you want." 

Trish fiddled around with the settings on her omni-tool until Nikki's face popped up on screen. The image quality was awful, grainy and distorted but after all this time she didn't care, it was practically a miracle to be able to see-

"You look like shit!" 

There was a loud, genuine laugh from the other side.

"Thanks babe, I've been waiting months to hear you say that! You look good. Slightly blurry, but your eyes and nose are the right shape at least. Although... This angle doesn't answer the question about your boobs..."

"No chance Nick, I'm at work." There was a tutting noise.

"If you're at work shouldn't you be, I don't know... Working?"

"I took an early lunch."

"How early?"

"Quarter to ten."

"Ouch, you're going to be so hungry later. Sorry."

"It was worth it."

"You say that  **_now_ ** ..."

"Nikki, it was worth it."

"Shepard!" A new voice came over the comm but it took a couple of seconds for the video to catch up to events.

"Ger off Badger!" Nikki's face suddenly disappeared from sight as a pair of uniformed arms descended into frame, large meaty hands angling back up to ruffle her hair.

"There's a poker game in engineering tomorrow night, you in?" 

Nikki freed herself from the man's grip, lips moving in protest completely out of sync to the audio. "Can I think about it? I'm kinda busy right now." 

There was a low whistle.

"Damn, not bad Shepard." The man stared forward into the omni-tool, finally noticing Trish on the vid call and pursing his lips.

"Come on man, I don't crash your calls with your wife... Hang on, ain't you supposed to be in med bay?"

"Fuck that! 'S full of sick people... Besides they needed the beds." Trish tried not to dwell on the implication of his words but this time she couldn't help but notice the soldier's bandage as he leant closer to the camera to tell her: "This gorgeous marine saved my life you know."

"This marine's gonna  **_end_ ** your life in a minute, fuck off!"

He chuckled, ruffling her hair again before walking off, calling over his shoulder:  "Eighty credit buy in, be there!"

"Shout it a little louder Badger! I don't think the XO heard ya!" Nikki turned back to the camera, burying her face in her hands. "Sorry 'bout that babe, so much for my 'everyone not on duty will be asleep' plan."

"It's alright... So, Badger huh, do I want to know how he got that nickname?"

"No, you really don't. I've heard about five different versions now and I don't think any of them are clean."

"He says you saved his life?"

"We all make mistakes... Aww come on Trish, it was a joke! Yeah I probably saved his life, he'd have done the same for me. Any of the guys out here would."

"The news reports are terrible, how bad is it out there really?"

"Well the cabbage mechanics can't cook to save their lives. Not sure how many more times they can feed us pasta and meatballs for breakfast before we mutiny. I did try breakfast blocks for a bit but we ran out of Full English last week, only got continental blocks left. Let's just say 'croissant flavour' really isn't the same when the texture's all wrong."

"Nick, you know that's not what I mea-"

"How about you? How's the work on that top secret thingy-mijig going?" 

Trish took the hint and dropped it with a sigh.

"It still needs field testing, but all the simulations so far suggest I've managed to enhance the realtime software capabilities of the thing I can't talk about by an estimated 1.7%"

"I have no idea what that means so I'm just going to assume that's impressive and that you're super awesome." 

The civilian laughed, her amusement short lived as the video quality degraded further before cutting out altogether, static starting to affect the audio.

"Wow, those private corporations and their non disclosure agreements sure are powerful! You didn't even tell me the project name!" Shepard teased before going serious. "We must be going back out of comm range, I'll have to go."

"Ok, take care of yourself Nikki. I'm glad we talked. Now go get some sleep, you need it."

"I will, for both points. Have-... at work... love you."

"I love-... too. Sweet dream-" The heavily static line finally cut out completely, leaving behind an oppressive silence in its wake.


	11. Chapter 11

"Sooo… there's probably a better way to tell you this but... I think there's been an administration error." Nikki's voice held no clues as to what was about to come next and Trish knew her imagination would run rampant if she didn't find out quickly.

"What is it?"

"Well, I don't know how because it certainly shouldn't have happened but... it looks like we've got two weeks leave over Christmas."

"You're coming home?" The disbelief was audible in her voice, she'd been expecting the reveal to be something far worse.

"I'm coming home." 

The confirmation warmed Trish's heart. She wanted to hug Nikki tight in her arms again, to scream and jump up and down like a child at the good news...  _ and _ to hit her idiot lover repeatedly until she promised not to scare her like that again. 

Instead she settled for asking in what she hoped was a calm and collected way: "When?" 

Ok, so  _ maybe _ it came out a little more desperate than she'd intended. There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the call.

"Well I lose a couple days traveling but I should be back early evening on the 19th." 

The older woman tried to bite back the groan but failed. 

"What? What's wrong Trish?"

"Nothing, just that that's the night of the work party. I'm sorry Nick, I can't get out of it. I won't be able to pick you up."

"That's alright, I know where you live. Wait, you haven't moved have you?"

"No."

"Right, good. I'll make my own way home then. Think of it this way, you'll have something to look forward to when you get back. Might even let you unwrap one of your presents early."

"I can't wait. It's going to be so good to see you again." There was a soft hum of agreement before they fell silent, each with their own thoughts of the other. Then, all of a sudden: "DAMN IT! Why'd you have to say it like that? Now I  **_really_ ** can't wait! Hey Nick... are you somewhere private?"

"Why? You alright babe? You sound a little hot and bothered." 

Trish might have bought the other woman's concern if it wasn't for the last sentence, but she knew Nikki knew exactly what she was doing.

"Yes or no Shepard, are you alone?" There was the sound of badly repressed laughter, sometimes she really hated her marine.

"Hmm, are you horny for me Trish?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Yeah I'm alone. Wish I wasn't though." In just three sentences her voice had gone from teasing to serious to soft and tender. "Wish I was back home with you. The things I'd do to you if we were together right now."

Trish smiled as she made herself comfortable. "What would you do?"

"Well, for starters..."

...

Trish was struggling to enjoy herself. The party wasn't that bad, the food had been amazing, the drinks only marginally overpriced, in fact for this part of town they were practically cheap. All in all, as far as work do's went, it was pretty good.

That couldn't stop her constantly checking her omni-tool though, desperate to know if Nicola had made it home. She knew her partner's ship had made it to Arcturus the day before yesterday but from there the crew would split ways, seeking passage on any ship or shuttle that would get them to the right planet in time to spend the holidays with their loved ones.

"My buddies bet me that I wouldn't be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful woman in here. Wanna buy some drinks with their money?" 

Trish spun round, ready to lay into the poor unfortunate soul who had dared to interrupt her musings, pulling up short when she was confronted by mischievous brown eyes and the traditional smirk. She barely managed to restrain herself from jumping the marine, taking an involuntary step forward before keeping her distance to give her eyes room to roam over the vision before her.

"Does that pick up line actually work?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure yet. It's either 100% effective or 0% still waiting to find out." 

Trish was dimly aware of the admission that she was the first person Shepard had tried the line on, but her brain was distracted by something else she'd seen in her initial inspection but failed to properly process at the time.

"What is that?"

"Wrapping paper."

"Well thank you Captain Obvious. Is there a reason it's around your arms?"

Nicola emphatically pointed a finger, providing a brief warning that she was about to state a rather pedantic point.

" **_Not_ ** captain, I'd have my insignia on my shoulders if I was a captain." She shrugged, letting her finger drop back down. "Some of the lads thought I should be more festive and I refuse to wear a silly hat." 

Trish silently vowed to make sure her marine ended up wearing a silly hat at some point during the holidays before suddenly experiencing a strange sense of deja vu. She ran a finger experimentally over the gift wrap, seeing if Shepard would say or do anything to stop her. The only thing that happened was her grin got broader.

"Is this supposed to be my early christmas present?" The hand attached to the arm she wasn't holding suddenly disappeared into a pocket, reappearing a moment later with a small wrapped  _ something _ .

"Well originally it was supposed to be this, but I guess your plan works too. Your choice, which one do you want?"

Blue eyes flicked calculatingly between the tiny parcel, the ridiculously wrapped bicep and her girlfriend's face.

"Whichever one I choose now I still get the other one as well right?"

"Mhmm, on the 25th." The brunette froze incredulously for a moment before darting into action.

"Well that settles it, I'm not waiting that long! I'll have this one tonight thank you." She ran her finger down Nikki's arm, using her nail to pierce a slit through the wrapping paper, keeping her gaze on her partner's face and watching as her grin grew bigger and bigger until there was no more room left for expansion. 

When she reached the end of the paper, her eyes followed Nikki's as they flicked teasingly down to her arm. She doubted she'd be able to pass the involuntary gasp off as a sigh, but she did her best to make her voice sound closer to exasperated disappointment than giddy pride as she stated: "This is becoming a habit."

"What, being promoted?"

"Not  **_telling_ ** me you've been promoted." 

Shepard had the decency to look a little bashful.

"Originally it was only acting Sergeant, I didn't say anything in case I was demoted back to Corporal before I saw you. They didn't make it official until we reached Arcturus." 

Trish wasn't stupid, she knew they would have shipped out with the right number of sergeants and that the only reason for a temporary promotion would be if Nikki's predecessor had been killed or badly wounded. Once again she found herself wondering just how much combat Shepard was finding herself in, but she tucked the knowledge away for future use rather than making a big deal of it.

"That explains a lot... I take it you're only an Acting adult as well? You certainly seem to get demoted back to big kid often enough." 

There was a pleased laugh of agreement.

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes. Now, speaking of grown ups, you never did answer my question about getting a drink."

"Oh that's right, you were attempting to be some random person picking me up in a bar weren't you... I'm sorry, I'm seeing someone at the moment." 

The soldier's face fell.

"Oh. Ah, right... Sorry... Umm..." 

Trish cursed herself as she saw the multitude of expressions streaming across Nikki's face, fist briefly tensing at her side before being forced loose.

"I, uh... " 

Trish caught her hand, halting her.

"I've not seen her for nine months but she said she'd be waiting for me at home tonight." 

Realization dawned across the soldier's face.

"Really? What's she like?"

"Hmm, about your height, black hair, beautiful brown eyes. I'm  _ told _ she has an awesome sense of humour and I  **_know_ ** she has no taste in TV."

"She sounds great."

"Well... She has her faults too. Keeps turning up on different days or places than we agreed on.  **_Never_ ** tells me when she gets a promotion..."

"Terrible, dump her. Go out with me instead." 

Trish laughed, thankful her ill-considered tease hadn't ended badly.

...

"Nikki!" The soldier's arms flailed helplessly as she was enveloped in a massive hug by Trish's mother who had emerged from the house to greet them.

A desperate glance towards her girlfriend revealed no small amount of amusement and absolutely zero aid. Tentatively she responded with an awkward pat on the back and managed to secure her release. 

"When Trish told me that you- well... It's good to see you again. Merry Christmas."

"And to you."

They made it into the house before being attacked once more, this time by a streak of orange fur threading between their legs. Trish picked up the mewling creature, fussing it until it broke free and stalked its way over to Nikki, rubbing a soft head over her legs.

"You know Trish, I think this is the first time you've brought someone home that Mufasa hasn't hissed at."

"Hear that? The cat likes you Nick, you must be a keeper."

"Oh good. If he didn't were you going to dump me?"

"No chance, usually he hates just about everyone."

...

"I think I broke the cat! Is it supposed to make this noise?"

"What noise!?" Trish's head appeared round the living room door in concern.

"Like a mark two eezo engine with a faulty capacitor." 

Trish hurried closer, kneeling down beside where they sat on a sofa to listen to the cat before slapping her partner lightly on the arm.

"That's purring Nikki! Didn't you ever have a cat as a kid?" 

A shake of the head was her sole reply. 

"Any pets at all?" 

Another shake. "I had brothers, if they count?" 

Trish laughed.

"I said pets, not animals. Pets are supposed to be tame." The cat suddenly got up and raced towards the front door, despite having ignored the entry of the vast majority of the Stewart clan so far.

"Hi cat, still not dead?" A gravelly voice intoned.

"STEVEN! How many times have I told you not to speak to Mufasa like that!" Trish's mother was less than impressed with the newcomer but Nikki was even more concerned. 

"I thought you said he wasn't coming?" She whispered to Trish urgently as the siblings discussed the perceived inappropriateness of wearing a uniform in the house, versus the definite lack of acceptability of an admiral being seen on a troop transport in a christmas jumper.

"I said we never  **_know_ ** whether or not he's coming to anything until on the day."

"Well this isn't going to be awkward at  _ all _ ..."

"Relax Nick, he'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say, are we going to spend next Christmas with your boss? Look... I'm sure your Uncle Steve is a great guy, but Admiral Hackett is scary. You know the troops call him 'The Hatchet' right?" 

She trailed off as he entered the room, Mufasa curled contentedly in the crook of his neck and pawing at the shoulder of his freshly donned dark green xmas jumper. Despite the multitude of relatives in the room he still seemed to notice them instantly.

"Shepard."

"Sir." With them both out of uniform there was no need to salute but there was still a respectful inclining of heads.

"Knock it off you two, no rank in the house." Trish's mum said as she bustled in behind her brother, still on a high from her recent victory in the clothing war.

"Give the kid a break Molly, they don't cover Christmas-ing with an admiral in basic."

"Thank you Sir."

"What did I just say Nicola?"

"Come on! That's just generic respect! Trish used to call my dad Sir all the time and he was a civilian."

"I used to call your dad 'Thomas' Nick."

"Yeah, eventually." She shook her head with a sigh but the quirk at the corner of her lips gave her away as she grumbled: "All those times I took your side against your mum when we were teens and this is how you repay me... Just wait until the next time you need help with anything."

"Hey Nick, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?"

"Sure what do you need?" The soldier asked, standing.

"To prove a point." 

Shepard's face dropped as she realised she'd been played. She was too busy mock pouting to notice the almost smile on the admiral's face.

"That's it, I'm taking the cat for a walk."

...

"A couple of ideas spring to mind but I'd have to take a look at it to know for sure. What wheels are you using?" Trish smiled as Nikki chatted away about cars with her cousin Sean, the mechanic in her shining through. The civilian was just glad to see her relax around her family. Well... mostly. 

She hadn't missed the occasional glances shot between her favourite uncle and favourite marine when they thought the other wasn't looking during dinner, speaking of which...

"How's my favourite niece doing?" She wrapped the man in question in a hug before answering.

"Very well, very happy."

"I noticed. Now, this girlfriend of yours... I don't suppose she plays chess?" 

Trish laughed in relief, for a horrible moment she'd thought the conversation was going to devolve into one of  **_those_ ** talks.

"Not yet and no, you can't teach her. There's a reason you never had to serve a posting as an instructor in your career ever!"

"I seem to remember doing a pretty good job teaching you to beat your daddy."

"Yes and now I get to use those skills to beat you. Do you want to play best of three or best of five?"

"I guess that depends how many boards your mum has in the house."

"Come on, can't you two play a game the rest of us can join in with for once?" Another relative inquired. More people joining in the debate until they finally reached a collective decision.

"Nikki, do you want to play?" Trish called out, waving the box lid for Summam Beli for clarification but only receiving a blank look of confusion in return.

"What is it?"

"Turian strategy board game." Sean informed her. "Think galactic scale Risk but a lot more complex. That's the 2160 edition, it contains 'a new playable race and human territories'."

"Sure, why not. Anyone got a copy of the rules?" 

Molly searched noisily inside the games cupboard before pulling out a bigger, heavier companion box and passing it over, the marine opening the lid to reveal a solitary item. 

"Well shiiii-uuugar... I think even the regs are smaller than that!"

"Only just." Hackett confirmed as Shepard started skim reading.

"Steve what race do you want to play?"

"Oh I can adapt to any of them, why don't the civilians pick first."

"Nick what about you, want to choose a race?" Nikki looked up from halfway through the chapter on race specific bonuses.

"You heard the man, civilians first." She went back to her reading, determined to at least not be the first to lose, until finally there were only two class options left. 

Despite still being a little wary of her girlfriend's uncle she couldn't help but ask him: "So, batarian or turian... Wouldn't it be considered treason if you help either of them capture Earth?"

…

_ Note to self: make sure the krogan and turians never form an alliance. _ Hackett thought as Thessia fell to a classic pincer movement.  _ They would be unstoppable _ .

It wasn't surprising that Trish would help her girlfriend navigate the tricky intricacies and sharp learning curve that was Summam Beli. What  **_had_ ** been surprising however was how much of the inquiring eye flicks had been initiated by the novice player. 

What had started as Trish suggesting Shepard move that piece over to that space had quickly evolved into the soldier asking:  _ what if I go here and you go there, then when they do that we'll do this, would that work? _

All too frequently Trish would give a subtle nod,  _ yes it would, let's do it. _

On one occasion she shook her head instead, receiving a faint frown of confusion in return. Hackett was extremely interested to see how his niece would manage to convey the fact that a salarian special forces team had disappeared on that spot eight moves ago and was waiting for people to forget about them so they could launch an ambush using just her eyes when a look of understanding crossed Nikki's face, signaling she'd remembered on her own and she preceded to outline an alternative plan.

The admiral was beginning to wonder whether she was a ringer.

Even with Trish's tutelage early in the game and the rulebook sat beside her, a mere novice shouldn't be able to pick up the complexities of the game this quickly. 

It would be more believable if the youngster was an officer, the academy would have taught her enough about battlefield strategy that she could adapt to fit within the confines of the game's structure and rules, but an enlisted marine? He could certainly see how she'd got the battlefield promotion if she was as quick thinking in the field.

The part of him that had faithfully served the Alliance for over 20 years couldn't help wonder if she was wasted in a mechanic's role. He forced his mind away from that train of thought; the moment Molly had found out about Corporal Shepard she had made him promise not to interfere either way. To allow both the soldier's career and his niece's relationship to progress naturally. No sabotage and no helping hands.

_ Looks like Trish didn't get the memo about not helping _ , he thought wryly as Sur'Kesh fell.

The best bit was that the rest of the players seemed completely oblivious to the genius that was being concocted above their heads. Attention fixed firmly on the armies on the board or distracted by snacks and goings on outside the table, instead of focusing on their fellow generals and their talking eyes.

...

It had to be the unluckiest sequence of dice throws in Stewart gaming history as Trish failed first her clans' cohesion check, causing a civil war among her pieces, and then the majority of her regeneration throws, seeing her formerly unstoppable army wipe itself almost to extinction. 

With the nearest krogan support on the other side of the galaxy, Shepard became a purely turian problem, and Hackett had plenty of experience defeating turians. 

Of course he wasn't so presumptuous as to forget that these turians were being commanded by a human, so he wasn't taken by surprise by the exceedingly un-turian move Shepard pulled. 

It might even have worked against another player at the table, but it would be a poor day when an Alliance Admiral was bested by a sergeant in a game of strategy.

Still, she fought back well, and with Trish practically out of the game, the few other remaining Stewarts took the opportunity to gang up and attempt to enact vengeance for several years of batarian military slights and multiple decades of Hackett gaming superiority.

He was privately pleased with the way Shepard took advantage of the chaos to regroup and rebuild, it showed a level of planning that was sadly lacking from their civilian opponents whose spontaneous and uncoordinated assault had amounted to little more than suicide.

They did make a noticeable dent in his forces however and with Trish still engaged in her own private battle with the dice, it would be interesting to see Shepard's reaction. If she was overawed by his success defending on multiple fronts she would stay focused on claiming the now empty territories and improving her own forces, but if she was smart she would attack while he was still weakened and not allow him the same chance to rebuild. 

Of course, Hackett wasn't an Alliance legend for nothing. If this were truly the mechanic's first time playing Summam Beli (and assuming she didn't have a photographic memory) then...

There were multiple other ways he could win if she didn't go for it of course, but this would be the quickest resolution. He spread his forces out to cover more planets as if to rebuild quicker, over reaching in one quadrant that unfortunately left him vulnerable if for some bizarre reason she chose not to consolidate her own position.

He could see the hesitation as she noticed it. The doubt that it could be a genuine mistake and the scrolling through an internal checklist of possible countermoves on his part. He didn't let anything slip through the poker face he'd worn all game.

"Why do I get the feeling this is a trap?" She queried as she finished moving the last of her pieces, despite undoubtedly having run the same mental simulations he had and concluding that nothing short of exceptionally unlucky dice could prevent her victory.  _ Well, bad dice or... _

"You should trust your gut more."

"What did I miss?"

"Class attributes I'm afraid. Know your enemy, but before that know yourself. You're leading turian troops on an ice world."

"Cold, of course. Well played."

"And you, I have a hard time believing this is your first game?"

"Ah, well… I've not played  _ Summam Beli _ before, but I  **_have_ ** played Kal'asi and Corock-so. I noticed enough similarities to not be completely useless."

...

"Well I survived, I'm totally taking that as a win." Nikki stated as they settled into bed. Trish smiled and pulled her close enough to plant a chaste kiss.

"You did more than survive sweetheart, you impressed him too."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far."

"You know he asked me to teach you to play chess?"

"Please no, that's horrifying! One on one with... **just no!** _Please?"_

Trish chuckled at her partner's reaction, waiting patiently for the full meaning of her earlier words to hit in  _ three, two, one... _

"Hang on! I  **_know_ ** how to play chess!"

"Do you now?"

"Yes! Set up the pieces on the board, white moves first, both players take turns moving a piece at a time and then YOU win." 

Trish couldn't help another soft laugh as she snuggled closer.

"That's the basic principle, yes."


	12. Chapter 12

"Well ain't that a sight to inspire confidence eh Badger? Final boarding call and there's a mechanic still fiddling with our ride." 

Nikki popped her head out, smiling at the familiar voices. All the vehicles being used in this op had been signed off as fit for duty when they'd first come back aboard and had yet to see any combat this year. Add to that the fact that she'd personally conducted Preventive Maintenance servicing on each and every one of them since then and she  **_knew_ ** there was nothing wrong with any of them.

She also knew there would be more than a couple of the troop leaders who either trusted her word, or were just too plain stupid and lazy to bother with the BDA (Before, During and After operation) checks but she wasn't one of them. If she was on a ground crew she always carried out checks on her vehicle, no matter how many times she'd signed off on it in the workshop beforehand. 

The whole convoy was already set up in drop formation in the cargo bay and marines were finally making their way to their assigned places, some in drips and drabs carrying their gear with them like her two squad mates, and others already fully suited and booted, the whole squad walking together like the crew of the Grizzly next to hers.

"Aww shit, I'm not stuck with you again am I?  **Hey, Harris!** Your squad's looking awful green, I'll swap you two old hats for a couple raw recruits." 

The man in question glanced over.

"Who've you got in mind?"

"Taylor and May."

"Hell no! I'll take the rookies any day. I like to reach the battle with my sanity and eardrums intact."

"Aww, come on Killjoy, you know you love us really."

"That's  _ Sergeant _ Killjoy to you Taylor. Watch yourself Shepard, don't let them near the radio controls or they'll have the volume limiters switched off before you can blink." Harris disappeared, his men following him inside their M29 and Nicola pulled on her gauntlets, finally noticing a new face standing nervously behind May.

"Hey Badger, who's the greenhorn?"

"Private Lambert, Rodgers replacement. Lambert, meet 'Triple-check' Shep."

"He only calls me that cos he can't count higher than three."

"Damn, did I hear that right? We got sheep  **_and_ ** lambs in this tin can? We must be heading to a slaughter." 

Nikki refrained herself an eyeroll as Bulsara came round the corner, explaining the difference between sheep and shepherds was not worth it. Besides, she suspected he already knew and she could see Lieutenant Deacon coming up not far behind.

"Sir."  _ Just my luck to end up with a butterbar in my truck _ . She watched the officer run what he probably hoped would look like a critical eye over the vehicle, but it was clear he didn't have a clue what he was looking at.

"Is she good to go?" Shepard nodded and Deacon and Bulsara sequestered themselves away in the front driver's compartment, leaving the rest of the squad to squeeze into the back.

"I never know what's worse, an officer navigating or the idea that they might decide to try and drive."

"At least all he's got to do this time is follow the vehicle in front."

"Pfft, I bet a hundred credits we end up lost and separated from the unit."

"I ain't taking that bet."

...

Everybody handled the ride out to an op differently; the checkers engaged in an endless cycle of equipment checks starting with their rifle, moving onto pistols and any other weapons, omni-tools, ammo pouches, environmental suit seals, backup shield generators and back onto the rifle. Once or twice was fair enough but some of these guys managed twenty or thirty cycles between the drop point and the target location.

Then there were the chatterers, spewing a constant verbal diarrhea of shit, whether it be speculation about the current mission, recollections of a past mission or some random meaningless crap about their life. 

The strong silent types needed no explanation although they seemed to come in two main categories: the ones exuding calm confidence and the ones that were just plain creepy. Then of course there were people like the ones she was currently confined with.

Shepard watched Taylor jam away on an invisible drum kit, Badger displaying an impressive air guitar beside him, it wasn't long before her head started bobbing to the beat as she tried to imagine the sound they weren't making. The duo laughed when they noticed, not at all fazed when she flipped them the finger and she turned to the only other person in the vehicle.

"You alright there Lambert?"

"Nah, battle virgin." Came the interruption before he could reply for himself. "Don't worry pork chop, when the bullets start flying at you you'll be too pumped to be scared."

Shepard shook her head in despair.

"You  **_do_ ** know that pork and lamb are supposed to taste different right?"

"Not in Alliance ration packs they don't." 

Shepard chuckled with the rest of them, she'd have to give them that one. However before she could come back with another retort Lambert finally joined in with a completely different conversation.

"What do you think happened to the pioneer team?"

"Well I'm not paid to think-" Badger mock glared at the snide 'just as well'. "But, I'd put my money on slavers."

"Certainly a lot of the bastards about these days. Hey Sarge, you ready to kill some more batarians?"

"I'm  **_always_ ** ready to bring down slavers, whatever the species." While Shepard felt she had every right to hold a prejudice against batarians, it always surprised her how willing others were to overlook the presence of krogan, turian and even human mercenaries during the assault on Elysium.

"Is it true they don't have hearts?" The more experienced squad members smirked at Lambert's naivety, taking the opportunity to have some fun at the kid's expense and test the boundaries of his gullibility. It took more than a few minutes for Shepard to remember she was  _ supposed _ to be the responsible one.

"Alright, alright that's enough. Ignore their bull Lambert. Batarians have hearts, but it's on the right side, slightly lower down than on humans. They also have smaller gaps between the ribs, it's more like a sheet of bone than a cage. Add to that the armour and shielding... You're much better off aiming for the head, right between the top eyes. Unless you're fighting hand to hand in which case you want to stick an omni-blade through the top left eye..." She trailed off at their expressions. "What? Didn't you guys get taught this shit at boot?"

"35 degrees." Taylor backed her up, everyone's attention jumping to him. "Ideally you want the omni-blade to penetrate the eye at a 35 degree angle. Gunny Ellison right?"

"Yeah, that man was real keen on making sure you remembered what killed humans might not work on other species."

"Did he have any advice on krogan?" 

Taylor and Shepard glanced at each other before stating in perfect sync: "Run like hell and hope your shields hold up!"

...

"So, why Badger?" Lambert asked, the carefree attitude of the rest of the squad was finally breaking down his barriers, allowing him to relax and his confidence to build. May's face visibly lit up at the prospect of someone new to tell the tale to.

"Well, I was posted out on Tiptree..." 

Taylor and Shepard shared a silent glance, Nikki holding up seven fingers. Taylor merely shook his head indicating he had her beat, then flashed all ten fingers before holding up another two,  _ twelfth variation _ .

{How's everyone doing back there Sergeant?} Lieutenant Deacon's voice came over her private comms. Shepard took another quick look round the back, Lambert looked like he was about to throw up from Badger's latest origin story.

"We're all good Sir."

{Good. Tell the men we're five kli- no wait, four klicks out from the beacon}

"Roger." She cut the connection and turned to the rest of the squad. "Game faces on, we're nearly at target."

"Fuck's sake, I just got to the good bit." Badger grumbled, but carried out orders anyway.

{Approaching-} The vehicle trembled, comms cutting out without warning at the same time as they were lifted into the air, all they could do was tuck their chins against their chest and brace themselves against the sides as they tumbled back towards the ground at completely the wrong angle. 

Shepard's eyes widened as she caught sight of the metal bubbling just behind Taylor's head and she pushed him out the way just as it melted completely, leaving a hole of daylight visible.

" **Move!** Everybody out!" 

The training kicked in as they exited the vehicle, immediately looking to set up security. 

Shepard checked inside the driver's compartment as she passed, but a quick peek was enough to confirm that neither of the grisly remains would be joining them. 

Once in cover her eyes fully roved the battlefield. A handful of Grizzlies were still mobile, turret guns firing at the towering monster, but the majority were in the same situation as her own. Upturned, the crews scurrying around like ants.

"What the fuck is that thing Sarge?" Lambert quavered and she couldn't begrudge him the fear audible in his voice. 

A glance behind revealed the grim and determined faces of Taylor and May with their weapons at the ready. Safeties off, trigger fingers straight, awaiting her orders. She had a job to do and the first stage in accomplishing it was making sure everybody believed it was possible.

"I don't know, but it sure as fuck ain't slavers. When we get back you better pay up Badger."


	13. Chapter 13

Anderson strode through the maze of corridors with purpose, people moving out of his way in a sea of salutes. The ship he was attached to had been about to embark on a routine patrol when he'd been pulled from the detail without warning and without explanation, usually that meant something had happened somewhere else that the normal troops couldn't handle and they needed an N7 to fix it.

As he neared the briefing room he was surprised at just how many familiar faces were present. It looked as if every active N7 not currently on assignment was there, queuing up to be relieved of their weapons before entry. He knew without a doubt that it would be a very slow queue and that was before he saw the argument at the front.

"You'd think he'd learn you can't take weapons into a brass briefing by now, but every time he argues about that damn knife." A familiar voice said behind him and he greeted the latest addition to the queue without turning.

"Ryder."

"Anderson." 

Years of practice had him able to withstand the urge to fidget in frustration or boredom but as they continued to NOT move in the static queue he reached for anything to fill the empty time with, even if it had to be something as mundane as small talk.

"So... How's the kids doing? Sara and... Scott wasn't it?"

"Yeah. They're good. Growing up far too quickly for my liking though..."

...

"Gentlemen, ladies, thank you all for coming, I'll get straight to the point. Four days ago members of the 108th marine corps responded to a distress beacon on the planet Akuze, fifty marines went down to check it out, only one made it back. What you're about to see is helmet cam footage from that engagement, it's not pretty, but it's all the details we've got on this new threat. We're trying to talk to the council races, see if any of them have encountered it or anything like it before, but in the mean time we need to come up with a strategy to use against them in the future."

"What are the chances he means: 'as soon as you come up with a viable plan we're sending you in'?" Came a quiet mutter from the back as the techs queued up the video footage for playback.

...

"There. Possible weak spot." Ryder called, shining a laser pointer on his omni-tool at the screen. The techs paused and then rewound the footage, everyone concentrating on the highlighted area as the battle resumed.

"Good catch. Mark that spot as a probable." The 3d holo-model off to one side of the main screen acquired a shiny new red targeting dot but it looked very lonely on the seemingly impenetrable enemy.

The helmet cam they were watching suddenly ceased moving, the marine wearing it diving out of the way of an acid spit and into cover at the last possible moment.

"You crazy Sarge?" came the inquiry from the man already occupying the small crater.

"Maybe. Cover me a moment I think I saw something." She ran back out, firing a burst of rifle fire on her way to the dubitable cover of a melted M29 chassis. Switching her ammo over to tracer rounds, she activated the unit wide comm: "Concentrate fire on my target."

She leant out to fire and Anderson noticed humorless smiles appear on the faces of several audience members as the bullets illuminated a path straight to Ryder's weak spot. It had been a good catch from the safety of a briefing room but to have noticed it in the midst of the chaos and carnage of the battlefield was even more impressive. 

The remaining marines switched their aim to target the same spot and the monster disappeared back under ground. However any relief the combatants might have felt was short lived as it popped back up in the foxhole she'd so recently vacated, what looked vaguely like a human body visible in its jaws.

"Orlov!  **Fuck!** " The moment of audible frustration was brief, quickly replaced by small arms fire and a hastily thrown grenade that didn't seem to do anything against the beast other than get its attention. 

She had to dodge another acid spit and kept running, zigzagging randomly as she radioed: "If that bastard grabs you, you're already dead. Try and throw a grenade down its throat on your way!" 

She slid behind a rock formation, a marine who'd been providing covering fire for her ducking back in response to another projectile vomit of acid flying in their direction.

"I think you made it angry Shepard."

"Really Badger? I hadn't noticed."

As they crouched down, Shepard catching her breath and Badger waiting for his rifle to cool down, sustained fire from another direction caught the monster's attention, undoubtedly saving their lives as it turned to face the more pressing threat. 

"I think we need bigger guns."

"Echo squad had the new Storm shotgun, you wanna get up close and personal with that thing be my guest."

"I was thinking bigger than that."

"Now what's she looking for?" An N7 murmured quietly to their little group as the camera panned around. A telltale flash of blue light caught their attention and the camera was moving, running across the battlefield before hunkering down beside another marine.

"Lim! Reckon you can flip a Grizzly?"

"I can try."

"Good, on me." The head lifted slightly, scanning the assorted debris, presumably noting things the video viewers weren't privy to because suddenly an arm pointed out at one of the M29s: "There, that one." 

A quick check that the monster was still otherwise engaged and then they were treated to another running cam sequence.

"Wait a second." Shepard entered the front compartment and started fiddling with wires and turning dials in a manner that was not only untranslatable to Anderson but seemed absolutely ludicrous in the middle of a firefight. He was aware of quiet whispers a few rows over as a couple of the engineers tried to figure out what she was doing. 

"Ok, Badger I want you on turret. Lim if I'm right, the moment you flip the IFV it's gonna be gunning for us, you can jump in or run like hell but whatever you decide, do it fast."

"I'm with you Sarge." 

The video bounced as the Sergeant nodded an acknowledgement and then the whole world seemed to turn upside down as she clambered awkwardly into the driver's seat, strapping herself into the harness so gravity wouldn't pull her straight back out. The biotic looked at her incredulously. 

"You sure you want to be in there when I flip it Sarge? I don't even know if I can."

"Well I'm not gonna be able to climb in and get her started up in time afterwards." Was the answer as she double checked the vehicle was in neutral. "You guys ready? We're only gonna have one shot at this." 

They signaled their confirmation and the world tilted once more, this time accompanied by a bluish tinge. As soon as the wheels touched the planet's surface the marine's hands were moving, hitting the starter button and as soon as was feasibly possible switching to first gear.

"In."

"In."

As soon as the second confirmation was uttered she put her foot down, pulling away fast and only just in time, the radar suddenly showing a new contact appear out of nowhere in the position they'd held just moments ago. There was a sharp cry of alarm and muffled swearing from the back.

"Sitrep?"

"Shield's are still at 98% but there's a fucking hole through the armour!" Lim reported.

"You hit?"

"Negative." 

The next half hour was witness to some of the most intense and impressive combat driving Anderson had ever seen. The sergeant switching seamlessly between aggressive and defensive driving strategies as required, depending on the gunner's calls of 'Ready', 'Firing' or 'Cooling'. 

The only other chatter inside the vehicle was Lim's updates on direction and distance as they desperately awaited any sign of where the burrowing monster would surface after its many disappearances. The dancing and dodging of beast and acid came to an abrupt halt when Shepard suddenly pulled hard on the steering wheel, only just avoiding being impaled by the rising monster.

"Shit! Fucker's learning my moves!"

"Then do something it won't expect!" 

He couldn't speak for their adversary, but if the muffled cursing was anything to go by, Anderson was willing to bet that the crew of the M29 certainly didn't expect to suddenly be hurtling at great speed, in a straight line, directly towards the monster. 

To their credit, they may well have set a new Alliance record for the time it took for the turret to adjust its aim and resume firing.

...

At long last the monster fell dead.  Exhaustion was the primary emotion on the crew's face as they clambered out the Grizzly, other survivors limping over to join them, a disbelieving sense of wonder that they had succeeded hanging in the air. 

From the once fifty strong platoon there was a mere sixteen soldiers left, each one bloodied and tired. It took a few moments of looking at the assembled privates and corporals before her for Shepard to realise what Anderson had already noticed, she was the highest ranking person left alive. 

The camera rose as she pulled herself back to her feet, offering brief congratulations before issuing them with new orders.

"Hopkins, Washington, I want you to keep eyes on that thing. For all we know it could have some krogan style regenerative, voodoo magic shit. It so much as twitches, start shooting and the rest of us will join in." 

The marines in question nodded, unslinging their assault rifles as they went to find a better vantage point. 

"Stitches, crack open the medi-gel and get to work. Langton, Jellicoe, McLeod check if there's any more survivors and make sure there's no sensitive information left in the vehicles. While you're at it gather any grenades, water or medi-gel you find. Blondeel reestablish comms with the ship and give them a sitrep. The rest of you establish a perimeter best you can and stay alert, I want a two man crew in that Grizzly at all times, who knows what else this delightful tourist spot has waiting for us. Badger with me."

"What's the plan Shep?" He inquired quietly once they were out of hearing range of the others. "You know they can't extract us from here." The video footage bobbed once more as she nodded.

"The drop point was the nearest LZ the analysts could find, we need to get back there. You saw the state of the men, no way they can hump it that far, and even if we strap people to the roof we're not all going to fit in one Grizzly. We find some more that still work, or failing that I'll fix one up if need be and then we get the hell out of here."

...

"Stand to! Stand to!" They had more warning the second time as they felt the ground tremble beneath their feet. 

Shepard rolled out from underneath the IFV she was working on, dropping her tools and pulling out her weapon. She could see the others running towards cover or climbing into turrets of any Grizzlies still standing. 

Any hope of repeating their previous miracle was limited however, there was something about the way their only mobile Grizzly was moving that made her doubt its current driver was up to the 'out-dodging an acid spit' level of driving.

She ran mental calculations on her current job's finish time. No, it simply wasn't possible, her vehicle would be immobile for the battle too. If she wanted maneuverability she'd have to use her legs, if she wanted decent fire power she'd have to be a sitting duck... 

She grabbed the extra webbing of grenades that McLeod had issued to everyone, she'd only taken hers off so she could fit underneath the chassis to work, and then clambered into the vehicle's turret, raking her eyes across the valley for any clue as to where the monster would surface.

She caught sight of Badger running towards her, still lugging the heavy machine gun she'd sent him to strip off one of the crippled M29s. The mounted gun's cooldown times had been the biggest problem in their earlier fight and they had decided to jury-rig an extra weapon onto the turrets of their chosen extraction vehicles. But it was too late now, he'd be better off dropping the excess weight so he could run faster.

Even as she thought it another idea entered her head: they were the furthest away from the beacon that had originally been their objective what felt like a lifetime ago, a mere twenty meters away the ground started sloping up into the side of the valley, and so far she'd only ever seen their adversaries surface from flat ground. 

If they took the machine gun up there, they'd have better firepower than their assault rifles, better chance of dodging on their legs than inside the stationary turret and plenty of rock cover everywhere to hide behind. Of course the plan's viability depended on the enemy's actions.

A mere six hours ago she wouldn't have spared a second thought to the subtle change she felt around her. In fairness she didn't think twice this time either, wasting no time on analyzing what it was her senses had picked up on but merely responding instinctively to the threat, dropping down into the interior gunner's seat with a speed and precision that could only be accomplished by the muscle memory from a hundred training hours or a single near death experience.

Her quick reflexes saved her, she undoubtedly would have been killed if her head was still sticking out the cupola as the vehicle rolled over 450 degrees. 

Fortunately the angle left her with an escape point and she managed to crawl out the metal tomb, dragging her rifle with her. Concussion was still a serious concern however and Badger arrived on the scene to find her disorientated, covered in dozens of small cuts and bruises but alive. 

Aware how lucky they'd been that the monster had kept going and not stopped to inflict further damage, and mindful of how quickly the situation could change, he helped get her into the cover of the nearest rock formation on the slope. Sitting her down before holding up a hand.

"Shepard! How many fingers?" He was perturbed when her gaze stayed distant instead of focusing on him, but then she reached up and grabbed him, rolling them both to the side as acid struck their former hiding spot. 

He saw the paint ripple on his arm, then the ceramics begin to melt and he quickly ripped off his bracer before the acid could reach his skin, thankful that it had merely been splash damage and not a direct hit. An involuntary scream of pain drew his attention down and he'd swear he froze for several long minutes at the sight of a patch of Shepard's armour bubbling.

Fortunately the rest of the world must have frozen with him because when the Alliance reviewed the helmet footage there was only a split second of hesitation before he scrambled into action, unlocking the relevant suit clasps as easily as if they were his own and peeling off her chest plate, revealing the reddening skin of her lower abdomen already attempting to blister. 

He upended three canteens of water, attempting to wash away the acid before it could make it's way deeper into the sergeant's body and ripping open an entire pouch of medi-gel, it spilling haphazardly onto the wound.

"I'm fine. Go." The pain was evident in her voice as she spoke through gritted teeth and he shook his head. "That was an order! Move!" 

He followed the angle of her eyes in time to see one of the two monsters heading their way and had to admit: if he stayed there they'd both die. 

Even if by some miracle it changed direction, the pair of them couldn't defeat the giant beasts alone, especially not on foot. If he joined the others maybe they had a chance of killing the enemy first. Maybe he could even lead it away from Shepard, then he could deal with her stubborn ass later. 

Decision made he pressed the medkit into her hands.

"Don't you dare die." 

Picking up his rifle he turned and raced towards the heavy machine gun that he'd abandoned mere minutes ago. Shepard fumbled with the first aid kit trying to treat her own injuries, more as a distraction from the inevitable rather than out of any real hope of survival. 

She never did figure out if it was her brain or body that ultimately gave out first as she slipped into unconsciousness. Even as her senses stopped receiving input, her helmet camera continued to record.

Four days and several solar systems later Anderson watched as the marine he knew of only as 'Badger' reached the usually turret mounted machine gun and lugged it out onto the flat ground of the valley floor, setting it up on some rocks and opening fire on the giant worm still approaching the unconscious sergeant.

It disappeared into the earth and knowing what would happen next Badger stood and ran, zigzagging and praying that he'd be able to relocate before it broke the surface. 

His prayers went unanswered as the ground beneath him broke and he raised up into the air, staring into the very jaws of hell. 

The adrenaline coursing through his veins allowed his brain to store every sensory detail of the experience, despite no longer having a need to; he would never have a chance to recollect it. Even with his odds of surviving at zero, he didn't give up. Performing one last act for his comrades. Priming one of the grenades on his webbing. When it went off it triggered a chain explosion with the rest of his miniature armory, ripping the creature apart from the inside.

His sacrifice helped level the playing field for the final round to one acid worm versus nine marines. Unfortunately with subpar weaponry, immobile vehicles and no leadership... the result was a foregone conclusion.


	14. Chapter 14

It hurt so much to see her marine bruised and battered in a hospital bed, it had only been a handful of weeks since she saw her last, laughing and joking and full of life, 

_ No! _ Trish reminded herself, looking at the ECG monitor:  _ She's still alive _ . 

Despite the steady pattern she had to look away from the screen, filled with an irrational fear that that if she stared too long it would flatline like in the vids.

_ How could a year with limitless potential go downhill so quickly? _ Her co-workers hadn't even had time to break their New Year's resolutions yet. 

Work had been pretty good about the whole thing really. Legally they hadn't had to give her any time off at all. Ok, so technically they hadn't, but at least they'd let her work from home instead of the office and well... people used to say 'home is where the heart is' so she worked from Nikki's hospital room. 

Tried to anyway. 

It was hard to stay focused. 

She knew she wouldn't concentrate any better at the office though, at least here when the worry and insecurity took her she could look up and check the monitors.

The nurses had been amazing as well. There was accommodation set up for family members of patients elsewhere in the same wing, but most the time she fell asleep in the room, waking up with a blanket round her. They only kicked her out when they needed to change the bandages or perform other medical duties. 

She couldn't help wonder how much of that was standard practice or if she was getting special treatment because of her uncle, but right now she didn't care.

...

Nikki awoke with some confusion, her last conscious sight and her next completely at odds with each other. Her beleaguered brain just about processed that she must be in the ship med bay or an infirmary of some sort, but it short circuited when she caught sight of Trish asleep in the corner. 

_ No! She shouldn't be here. It's not safe! She can't be here. Is she here? Maybe I'm hallucinating _ . 

She had to know for sure and stood cautiously, determined to march over there and find out. If Trish vanished as she got nearer or her fingers passed right through her when she tried to touch her then so be it, but she needed to know, and if she  **_was_ ** real, well, in that case... 

She collapsed to the floor with a clatter as her traitorous body mutinied against her.

"Nikki!" Trish woke instantly at the noise, her eyes jumping automatically to the bed and then to the figure on the floor beside it. She rushed over in concern, completely forgetting about the button to summon the nurses in her haste. "Nikki, are you ok? Are you-" 

As soon as she was within reach the soldier grabbed hold of her arm, a fraction too tight at first but instantly loosening.

"Trish? You're real. What are you doing here? You shouldn't be- why are you here?" Shepard paused for a second as she struggled to get her thoughts in order "... **_Where_ ** is here?"

"We're at the Arcturus Military Hospital and I've been waiting for you to wake up." Trish stated simply, skipping past all the doubts she'd had that her girlfriend might not make it. "How are you feeling?"

"Numb." The answer came back after a brief moment of consideration. "They must have me on the good stuff." 

A hand wandered curiously towards her bandages but Trish noticed and intercepted the wayward hand with her own, intertwining their fingers and giving a reassuring squeeze. The distraction worked, Nikki's attention focusing on the point of contact.

"Do you think you can make it back to bed or should I call the nurses?" An involuntary smile threatened to break through as she saw the look of confusion as Nikki looked away from their hands and back to her face. "You fell remember?"

"I didn't fall." Nikki grumbled as she accepted Trish's help to stand. "I was attacking the floor."

This time there was no stopping the quirk of her lips at the thought of such a ridiculous concept.

"Well, I think the floor won."

"Didn't." Came the stubborn reply and Trish quirked an eyebrow. "Alright, we'll call it a draw."

With Shepard safely tucked in bed she placed a chaste kiss to her forehead. Just as she was about to pull away the soldier gripped her arm, the look in her eyes when she glanced down almost stopped Trish's heart. The urgency reflected in her voice as she asked:

"What about the others? How bad are they hurt? They made it right?"

_ "Please don't ask me for more details Trish, I can't give them to you." _ Her uncle had said when she finally saw him.  _ "That mission became classified to high heaven the moment we found out. I shouldn't even tell you this much but you need to know. You need to be prepared, Shepard... Nicola... She's the only one that made it back alive." _

She really didn't want to be the one to tell Nikki. She didn't even know how to tell her. 

For a brief cowardly moment she considered pretending she didn't know. 

Let someone else break the news. 

Someone trained in delivering messages of doom. 

Someone who... but she'd hesitated too long and the grip tightened on her arm.

"Trish,  **tell me** ."

"I'm sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry. They're dead."

"Who is?"

"Everybody Nick."

"What about Badger?" 

_ Badger _ ... as bad as it sounded Trish had barely given a second thought about the rest of the squad. She knew they were dead but she hadn't known them personally and she was so caught up worrying about Nikki that she hadn't thought about the wider implications. Not until she heard the name and remembered seeing the man on vid call.  _ He had a wife _ .

"I'm sorry Nick, he didn't make it."

"What about Lim? Selby?"

"They're all dead, everybody's dead Nick." 

She felt a tear spring in the corner of her eye as she watched understanding sink into Shepard's face like a stone. The soldier remaining dry eyed even as her gaze hardened and went distant.


	15. Chapter 15

At long last Nikki was discharged from hospital and allowed to come home. Trish fussed around her like a mother hen, carrying bags, opening doors and generally trying to be as helpful as possible. 

She was so busy trying to be useful that she missed the flicker of annoyance that passed across Nikki's features as she followed her inside. The rest of the evening saw a pattern emerge, every time Nikki went to do something Trish was right there by her side, offering to help or just straight out doing what needed to be done without consultation. 

The soldier remained quiet, the subtle twitch on her face the only sign of her discontent. She lasted two days before she exploded.

"STOP DOING THAT! I'M NOT A FUCKING INVALID!"

Trish paled at the sudden outburst, Nicola had never raised her voice in anger at her before and all she'd done was get a cup down from the top shelf. Shepard seemed just as shocked. Her eyes screamed sorry but her mouth stayed stubbornly silent, jaw clenching in a determined line. 

For a moment they just stared at each other before Nikki turned to walk away, freeing Trish from her trance. The civilian darted round to block of her partner's escape.

"Oh, no. You don't get to shout at me then just run away Nikki." 

The marine tried to keep walking but Trish refused to back down, earning herself a sharp glare in the process. For the first time in her life she worried that Nicola might hurt her, then the soldier glanced away, running a hand through her hair. The anger evapourated leaving pure, unadulterated frustration in its wake.

"Do you have any idea how annoying that is? You acting like I can't do anything myself?" 

Trish looked down at the floor, she hadn't thought of it that way before, she'd just wanted to help.

"No Nick, I don't. How can I when you don't tell me?" It was the soldier's turn to stare at the ground. "I'm sorry ok? Look I'll make you a deal, I'll try not to barge in and let you do things yourself, if you promise me you'll ask for help if you need or want it with anything ok?" 

She looked back up and they matched each other's hesitant gaze, Nikki gave a tiny nod.

"Ok."

"Ok... and Nikki? I don't know what I'm doing here, this is all new for me too, just... Please tell me if I do something wrong... don't shout at me again."

...

Trish took off her nice warm winter coat as she entered the toasty, central heated apartment and went to turn the kettle on. She sighed in frustration as her hand reached automatically for a cup only to be met by empty air. 

Nikki had  **_promised_ ** to empty the dishwasher while she was at work today. It took only a moment to pull open the machine and pick up a mug but it was the principle of the thing that bugged her. 

Sure she knew Nick still wasn't 100% and she made constant allowances for that, but this was well within the physio's recommended limits. At the end of the day if her girlfriend specifically said she'd do something was it so unfair to expect it to be done?

Drink made she wandered into the living room, expecting to find her partner sprawled in front of the TV, but the room was dark and empty. Annoyance faded into concern as she finally spotted her, sat outside on the small balcony, staring off into the distance. 

Quietly sliding the glass door open, she shivered as she stepped out into the cold, a fine drizzle of rain hitting her face.

"Nikki? Why don't you come on in before you catch your dea-... self a cold." Trish suggested, catching herself part way through the sentence. She needn't have worried, Nikki didn't appear to have heard her. "Hey, you okay?" 

The soldier blinked, refocusing on her.

"Hmm? Yeah, just thinking."

"Maybe the rain's a good thing after all, wouldn't want your brain to overheat." She teased lightly but there was no Shepard smirk, no outraged defense or witty comeback. "Credit for your thoughts?"

"Keep your money, trust me they're not worth it."

"Sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Ok..." Trish fidgeted slightly, she never knew how to handle these situations. "Well... If you ever change your mind I'm here for you."

"Seriously, I'm fine." Nikki's lips quirked up in an imitation of a wry smile as she reached towards Trish, entwining their fingers and issuing a small kiss to the back of the hand before adding almost as an after thought: "Thanks though."

"No problem... Can you at least come be maudlin inside? You're freezing." 

The soldier glanced round as if only just noticing her surroundings.

"Yeah, right. Sorry."

...

Trish was used to spending months at a time apart, but she had never felt so alone in their relationship than when they were in the same room. Nikki had grown increasingly distant, both emotionally and physically. On a basic level she understood. All she knew about the 'incident' was that Shepard's squad had discovered something new and Nikki had been the only one to make it back.

Sometimes she questioned the validity of that statement. The times when she stared into her partner's eyes and struggled to see even a glimpse of her lover inside. The times she looked at that familiar face and saw nothing but a stranger. 

Trish wasn't a psychologist but she knew what Nikki had been through would take a toll on any mind. Oh yes she understood alright... on a basic level. 

That didn't stop it hurting on a personal level though.

They still shared a bed at night, but it felt like that was all they shared, and it was rare for Nikki to still be beside her when she woke. Sometimes she got up in the middle of the night to find the bed already empty, a light on under the study door. She didn't even bother going in anymore. She knew what she'd find and it was too painful to keep dragging herself through the same hopeless routine. 

Nikki would be sat at the desk or stood by the window, a glass of whisky in one hand, the rest of the bottle within easy reach. If Trish attempted to hug her or hold her, make any sort of physical contact, comfort her in any way, Nick would shrug her off and wordlessly move to another location.

It didn't take long for Trish to take the hint and restrict herself to the doorway. It also didn't matter what she said: 'are you ok?' 'having trouble sleeping?' 'is there anything I can do?' 'nightmares again?' The answer always came back the same: "I'm fine." 

Requests for her to get help, pleas for her to talk, either to herself or anyone else, preferably a professional, were always returned with: "I said I'm fine Trish". She knew she wasn't fine of course,  _ did Nikki? Surely she must know too? _ Trish wanted to help but she just couldn't find a way in.

It wasn't all dark and bleakness though, they still had their good days. 

Trish had been so hopeful the first day she came home and found flowers outside the door. She had no idea what changed within Nikki to allow it, why this was happening, particularly now. She had to take a moment to compose herself after reading the simple note: ' _ I'm sorry. I know I've been a nightmare to live with recently' _ .

Trish felt her throat tighten in emotion as she entered the house and she nearly broke completely when she found another set of flowers in the middle of the hallway:  _ 'I love you' _ . 

She didn't even notice the faint smell wafting through the house until she reached the kitchen and found Nikki cooking spaghetti bolognese. Sure it wasn't the most complex or time consuming dish in the world but it was the thought that counts and besides, Nikki's bolognese was amazing.

The marine turned at the sound of her entry, nervousness clear in her eyes and Trish smiled. 

They actually talked over dinner. Sure it was meaningless small talk, Trish's job was too confidential and Nikki's potentially inflammatory for table talk and they could hardly talk about current affairs. Not when all the news was talking about was the Anhur rebellions. 

Batarians and humans fighting over slavery, the Alliance and Hegemony both watching on with interest, both strictly prohibited from interfering in the independent planet's affairs by the council. That wasn't a topic Trish wanted to talk with Nick about, not when they so rarely talked. So instead they mostly discussed the latest biotiball news or the trailer for the new Blasto reboot.

"Leave the dishes." With a glass of wine in one hand, she gently tugged the marine closer. The kiss was hesitant and uncertain, Nikki still unsure of so much inside her own head. Trish could feel her floundering and tried to reassure her, both through the kiss and the hand gently caressing her cheek.

It seemed to work, Shepard's confidence doubling as her lips reached in for another go. They parted once more with tentative smiles, Trish flicking her eyes towards the stairs in silent question. She didn't even realise she was holding her breath until her partner gave a tiny nod.

It had been so long since they'd been intimate. Trish wanted nothing more than to jump her lover right now but she forced herself to take things slow, allowing Nikki to dictate a pace she was comfortable with. Their affections remained soft and tender as the soldier cautiously unbuttoned the brunette's blouse, pressing gentle lips to each newly exposed section of flesh.

A soft moan escaped her and Trish could wait no longer, pulling off Nikki's shirt in a single motion. She couldn't help the audible gasp and sympathetic wince of her eyes as she properly saw the scars on her marine's abdomen for the first time, neither could she miss the way Nikki tensed in response.

Fingers traced the textured craters left behind by third degree acid burns, followed by soft lips pressed against the join where ghastly wound and naturally smooth skin met before the soldier pulled away.

"I'm sorry Trish, I... sorry." Nikki sat down dejectedly on the end of the bed and Trish knelt on the floor in front of her, hand softly cupping her partner's face.

"Shh, it's okay... We don't have to do anything... Please just talk to me." She felt the marine retreat further in and mentally cursed herself.

"I'm fine." 

She let her hand fall.

...

"Hey babe." Nikki answered the prearranged vid call promptly, looking smart and shiny in her perfectly pressed uniform.

"Hey sweetie. So... how was the first day back at work?"

"Weird." Came the response and Trish had to look pointedly at her to get her to expand. "Well, there wasn't much work involved for starters. It feels like half my day was spent with the M.O- err, the doctor." 

Trish smiled, she always liked it when Nikki suddenly remembered she was speaking with a civilian and started translating. She probably should remind her girlfriend that she came from a military family and was raised on acronyms, it was rare for her to need the translations, but then again where would be the fun in that.

"Got given my work pattern as well. That's going to be even stranger to get used to, they're giving me weekends off like a normal person."

Trish snorted, not even thinking as a response left her mouth automatically:

"You and normal, there's two things I never expected to hear in the same sentence."

"Hey! You calling me abnormal?"

"Ah come off it Nick, you're not normal, you're not abnormal, you're just you. Face it, we'd both get bored if you were normal. So, anyway... does that mean you'll be coming home on the weekends?" 

There was a shrug.

"Can do. If you've not had enough of me yet."

...

"Hey babe, what's the problem?" 

Trish breathed a sigh of relief as Nikki stepped out of the Alliance marked skycar that had pulled up behind her stationary vehicle. For awhile she'd wondered if her girlfriend would actually show up or just send a tow truck in answer to her distress call.

"You're the mechanic, you tell me." 

She had dared to hope that going back to work would help with whatever issues the soldier was still silently struggling with. The sense of purpose and steady routine focusing her mind, less free time resulting in less moping time. The presence of fellow marines providing her with a support group who had similar experiences and better understanding of what she'd been through than some civilian and just maybe she'd be able to talk to them.

Trish's dreams were short lived. 

As the weeks passed she came to realise that the only thing about Nikki that had gotten better was her ability to hide the symptoms. 

She watched the soldier pull a toolbox out the back and wave the Alliance driver away, walking round the front and sticking her head under the hood to take a look. Trish knew the exact moment that she located the fault, there was a deep audible exhale.

"Really Trish? We're not kids anymore."

"No, we're adults. So why don't you act like it and talk to me?"

"Oh the irony, she tells me to act like an adult after sabotaging her own car to lure me out here. Yeah, real mature Trish."

"What, back on Mindoir it was the only thing I could do to get you to stop and talk, so excuse me for hoping it might work again." 

Nikki said nothing as she pulled a torque wrench out the toolbox and started fixing the vehicle. 

"Look... I get why you don't want to talk to me about what happened, but can't you at least talk to me about other stuff? The day to day, what you're doing, how you feel, anything! Sometimes I feel like you're cutting me out of your life. That..." She trailed off with a sigh, not even sure if Nikki was listening. "It hurts you know? Seeing you like this and not being able to help, it physically hurts me Nick."

"Never meant to hurt you Trish." Came the soft reply but the marine didn't look up from her work.

"I know that Nick, but it's happened anyway. Whatever you're going through we can face it together. I'm not running Nick, I just need you to let me in." 

There was a long silence before: "I'm not sure I know how." 

The civilian breathed a small sigh of relief.

"We'll figure it out, the first step is you've got to want to."

"And the second step?"

"You've got to talk to me." There was the tiniest incline of the head and Trish decided to push her luck,  _ start with something small. _ "So... How's work?"

"It's..." there was a shrug. "I don't know... boring I guess."

Trish kept her face neutral as her brain churned away in the background. Even though the whole point of this whole facade had been to get Nikki to talk, she hadn't truly expected it to get this far. Out of all the possible scenarios she'd envisioned, the potential responses Nikki could have given, 'boring' was not one she'd planned for. 

"I'm not sure how much longer I can cope with it."

"So what are you thinking? Do you want to get out? Leave the Alliance?"

"Hell no! It's bad enough at the moment, stuck training apprentices. I think I'd go mad in the civilian sector." 

Trish struggled to get her head round the words,  _ you're not happy in but it would be worse out? How's that even.. _ . A sneaky suspicion entered her mind.

"You want to go back out there don't you? Active duty. Combat. The whole lot?" 

Nikki paused. For a moment she looked as if she'd accidentally revealed classified information and was awaiting a death sentence for treason. Finally she admitted:

"Yeah. Yeah I do." 

Trish's heart clenched in fear as she thought about her partner going back into harm's way.

"Why?"

"Because I..." There was a weary sigh, "I'm not sure I could explain it in a way that would make sense to you." She gave a wry smile before her tone suddenly became bitter. "Not that it matters. They won't even give me a damn ship posting and I  **_know_ ** I passed the psych tests, for once in my fucking life I revised."

"Revised..." Trish repeated, barely able to process the meaning. All promises to try and stay calm during the discussion flew out the window as understanding struck. 

"You stupid fucking idiot Nick! You didn't think that maybe you're not getting the postings you want because they know you're not being honest with them? You can't just  **_give_ ** a shrink the right answers! That's not how it works! And what the hell are you hiding to need to lie in the first place?"

"Nothing! I'm fine."

There was no holding back the frustrated groan at the sound of that tired cliche but finally inspiration hit.

"Then prove it! If you really think you're fine then see a professional, just once! Answer every question truthfully and if they come out at the end of the session and tell me you're fine I'll never bring it up again." 

The internal struggle was clear on her partner's face. It was obvious she'd finally made a dent in Nikki's defense but Trish could still sense she was about to lose. 

"Why not Nick? Can't you at least tell me why you're being so stubborn about this?"

"Because I can't afford to have that shit on my record! What if they give me a medical discharge? Or ground me? Have me stuck on Earth postings for the rest of my life or..." 

_ Bingo. Finally. _ Trish was both relieved to have the truth out in the open at last and disappointed in herself for not guessing the truth sooner. It was so simple, so obvious,  _ so stupid _ ...

"We're not living in the dark ages Nick. It's not an automatic discharge anymore. If they got rid of everyone at the first sign of PTSD they'd probably be down a whole fleet! You're strong Nick, you're a fighter and you're bloody stubborn, but you need to try a different tactic. It's not weak to admit you need help. Hell, after what happened they're probably just waiting for you to have a meltdown. Owning up and getting professional help might even get you a posting sooner."

"I don't know Trish, I don't know if I can take that risk."

"You don't have to go through Alliance channels, there are plenty of private sector psychiatrists who'll keep the details confidential, some of them are veterans too so you don't have to worry about explaining stuff to a civilian who might not understand." 

She could tell Nikki had reached her limit for the day, if she kept pushing now she'd lose her again and undo all their progress, she needed to wrap things up.

"Just... Think about it Nikki ok? And I don't mean say you'll think about it just to shut me up and then instantly dismiss it. Actually think about it... Please? For me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've simplified a lot of complex subject matter here for the sake of the story and also taken a few liberties with regards to the timeframes of how long these things take to develop, be recognised for what they are and the people involved to finally be willing to seek help. 
> 
> Having said that in the past couple of decades huge leaps have been made in the 'notice, accept, get help' process from averaging over 24 years in 1994, down to under 12 years in 2004 and apparently now averaging between 2 and 4 years for many Iraq and Afghan veterans so who knows, in the century plus wait we have until the events of Mass Effect are set maybe things continue to progress until a couple of months is a perfectly reasonable time frame for a soldier to accept they need help in. (Statistics courtesy of Combat Stress, the UK's biggest charity for veterans mental health issues).
> 
> Hope you're all still enjoying.


	16. Chapter 16

Trish waited apprehensively in the clinic's waiting room. It was probably designed to be cosy, a couple of sofas and chairs of varying comfort levels spread around the low coffee table. A small kitchen worktop and shelves set off to one side with a couple of posters; one warning the water was hot and the other informing visitors that the price of tea or coffee was to hand wash the dishes yourself. 

She'd read them and the various leaflets dotted around advertising support groups and 24 hour helplines multiple times, studied the board of smiling headshots of the clinic's practitioners, but nothing helped quell her nerves.

It had been easier when Nikki had been there, focusing on small talk and keeping the marine calm had distracted her from her own concerns. Even though it had been her idea to get help, even though she'd had to go through so much to get Nikki to agree to come, even though to all intents and purposes she'd 'won', she couldn't help but feel on edge now that they were actually here.

She caught sight of a familiar hoody coming back down the hallway and stood up. There had been a time when she could read Nikki's emotions like an open book, but after Akuze she'd become far more closed off and restrained. 

Trish was getting much better at deciphering the small signs but she still struggled sometimes and now was one of those moments where she couldn't quite pinpoint her partner's feelings. Before she could decide on the appropriate wording for her questions Nikki interrupted.

"Come on, let's get out of here. I want something to eat."

...

'Something to eat' apparently translated into ice cream. It probably hadn't been the original plan but they'd stumbled upon a vendor not long after leaving the clinic. They walked on, licking their cones in silence before Shepard finally broke it with a sigh.

"I'm surprised you've not imploded yet. Go on, I know you're dying to ask."

"How was it?" 

A shrug was the only response and Trish bit back on her frustration: _why give me permission to ask and then not answer?_ _No, wait... you've got permission but it's still up to you to find the right question._

"Do you think it'll help?"

"I don't know yet." The soldier's voice was faint and almost vulnerable as she answered with another shrug. "I've got another session next week." 

Trish reached out and gave Nikki's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you. For giving it a chance. I... I know it's not easy for you so... thanks."

"Yeah, well... It's cheaper than a divorce." 

The bizarre reply took Trish completely by surprise for a moment, then she smiled as she recognised Thomas Shepard's old catchphrase. 

_ Why would any man go shopping with his wife instead of down the pub with his mates? It's cheaper than a divorce.  _

_ Why build a bird table and multiple nesting boxes for the garden by hand? It's cheaper than a divorce. _

It was the well worn mantra of a hard done by husband. Or at least, it would have been, if not for the glint of mischief in his eyes whenever he said it and the accompanying amused sparkle mirrored in Hannah's each time she heard. 

More often than not his face would morph into the signature Shepard smirk that his daughter had inherited, the same cheeky grin that Trish longed to see on her partner's face again.

"Nikki, we're not married."

"You could have mentioned that an hour ago, I could have saved myself a lot of hassle, AND some money!" 

Trish laughed. As far as jokes went it was awful, but it had been so long since Nikki had joked or teased about anything that she didn't care. For once she didn't second guess herself or waste time worrying about potential consequences, instead she followed her instincts, wrapping Nikki up in a tight hug. 

She felt the marine tense for a second before relaxing and hesitantly hugging her back.

"What's this for?"

"I missed you."

"But I've been right here."

"Yeah, well... I missed you anyway. You and your bad jokes."

...

As the weeks passed Trish became much more comfortable with the waiting room, making herself at home on the sofa with a cup of coffee and engrossing herself with datapads and her omni-tool. She was so busy constructing a report on which microprocessor would be best for the next generation of bluewires that she didn't even notice Nikki approach until a shadow appeared over her.

"I diagnose obsessive fixation, or is it workaholism? I always get those two mixed up." 

Trish hit save before standing with a smile. The jokes had slowly started getting more common but she still treated each one as a gift.

"How did it go?"

"Fine, doc wants a word with you though." Shepard nodded to a man far enough away to give them the semblance of privacy but probably just within range to hear their conversation.

"What, me? Why?" With her attention on the psychiatrist Trish missed the delicious smirk that crept over her partner's face.

"Well, I don't know for certain, but I  **_think_ ** they may be considering sectioning you." 

Trish nearly gave herself whiplash with the speed her head twisted back round, the evil grin now almost fully encompassing Nikki's face.

"After all you  **_choose_ ** to live with me, you must be crazy."

...

"What would you think about a tattoo?" 

They had been lounging lazily on the bed, just basking in the simple act of existing in the other's presence. Trish raised her head off Nikki's chest at the question so she could get a better look at her partner's face. As far as she knew Nikki had never displayed any particular interest in tattoos before.

"Are we talking about for you or for me?" 

The soldier pointed a thumb at herself, shifting slightly in that subtle but oddly specific way that Trish had deciphered as meaning she was thinking about her wound again.

Realization struck and the civilian was hit by a wave of emotion. She was glad that Nikki was finally ready to accept and reclaim her own body and honored that she cared enough to ask what she thought, but at the same time wondered if that didn't slightly defeat the object of the exercise. The point was to give the survivor control over their body back, not pass the decisions on to someone else.

"It's your body Nick, you can do what you want with it."

"Yeah but you're the one who's got to look at it." 

Hope sprung then. Their love life had definitely improved but Nicola was still far too self conscious about her scar, any attention to it tended to put a dampener on their activities and she always made sure it was covered back up before they went to sleep. 

Trish knew she probably shouldn't push but she couldn't help it. She promised herself she'd be careful and back off at the first sign of discomfort.

"Hopefully I'll get to do more than just look at it." She raised their entwined hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Nikki's hand to make her point clear. The soldier's hesitation and unease was equally clear.

"That... I..." It was Nikki's turn to take control of their hands, moving them closer to herself, stopping a little way from her but not relinquishing her hold as she sought out eye contact. "That might take a little longer." She admitted as she mirrored the earlier kiss.

"Don't worry, I can wait." Trish smiled at the silent compact they'd just reached, brushing her thumb reassuringly over her partner's hand, that was enough pushing for one day. "So, do you know what you want?" She asked, changing the subject. "For your tattoo?"

"I'm not sure, maybe. I did think about a phoenix rising but that seems a little too cliche. Now a  **_dragon_ ** would be pretty badass! Flying in and breathing fire, laying waste to all before it... Not sure if you'd like that though..."

"I'm surprised you're not going for both!" Trish teased and the soldier's face turned wistful.

"Now there's an idea! The dragon burns the scar into existence and the phoenix rises from the ashes..."

"Chinese dragon or western dragon?"

"I don't know. You're putting far more thought into this than I've done yet. I'm still kind of expecting you to say no."

"Why would I do that? I mean, maybe if you decide on a stick dragon..."

"There are stick dragons?"

"Yes and you're not getting one. They look silly, you wanted badass remember." 

Nikki chuckled, turning her head to kiss the nearest available piece of flesh, in this case the top of Trish's arm.

"You're sure you're ok with this?"

"Well... I do have one condition..."

Nick nodded at her to continue.

"It has to look awesome." 

The soldier smiled softly. "That I can work with." 

Agreement made they fell back into a comfortable silence. This close together Nikki couldn't help but stare at Trish's face with open admiration, wondering how she'd been so lucky. She'd nearly forgotten about their conversation when out of nowhere:

"Colour or black and grey?"

"Black."

"What-" 

Nikki laughed, she placed a finger on her partner's lips to shush her, along with a quick nose kiss before rolling away and picking her omni-tool up off the bedside table.

"If you're going to keep asking questions we might as well start looking." She rolled back into position, raising an arm so Trish could snuggle closer, allowing them both to look at the screen and they spent the next couple of hours curled up, looking at pictures on the extranet.


	17. Chapter 17

Time passed and life got better. Not magically all at once, but gradually, a piece at a time, through hard work and perseverance.

Monday to Friday Nikki lived on base, fixing broken engines and replacing burnt out clutches, occasionally getting to do a complete overhaul of a vehicle. She'd taken up boxing again in an attempt to get some sense of adrenaline flowing but it wasn't the same, not even when she started training with the mixed martial artists. The weekends mostly made up for it, leaving base after work on a Friday night and going home to spend time with Trish.

They were getting on a lot better now that they'd relearnt how to talk with each other. It had taken some time, adjusting their relationship to the new circumstances they found themselves in, working out new needs, expectations and boundaries, but it had been worth it. They were stronger than ever, and as for the sex? Well... That was absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent-

" **Private** ." Shepard stated with a note of finality and a hint of warning when asked by her shrink. 

Their sessions had dropped in regularity and he was content to conduct most of them over vid call instead of in person now, but he still liked her to check in and 'touch base' every now and again. Even if there wasn't anything in particular to discuss. She let her face relax again. 

"It's good though. We're doing real good."

And it was true, life was good. Sure there were still nights when she'd wake in a cool sweat and have to quietly slip out to the study, trying her hardest not to disturb Trish on the way. 

However where she'd once relied on alcohol as a crutch to see her through the darkness, now she'd hit the switch on the newly installed kettle instead. 

The drinks cabinet still served its purpose but instead of a selection of whiskies, vodka and the odd brandy, it now contained her personal stash of assorted herbal teas. The taste and smell helping to ground her and override the memory of the unique stench of thresher acid that threatened to drag her mind back into the darkness. 

A strange scent that reminded her of chlorine, honeysuckle and something else she couldn't quite identify. 

She'd even risked potential ridicule by taking a couple of boxes of tea back with her to the barracks in case she was affected on a week night. 

Occasionally she'd have a bad day, but she was in control. 

Yep, life was good.

She was living the dream. 

She was... fucking bored!

It was the one thing she hadn't really discussed with Trish. Not properly at least. Not since that first day. 

Trish liked to think of it as 'breakthrough day' but for Nikki it would forever be remembered as 'mean nasty lady tricked me with childish tricks (and I still love her despite it) day'. The brackets  **_may_ ** have been added as a result of a 'look' but she'd got a smile and a kiss out of it so it had been worth it. 

Point was, Trish knew she wanted to get back out there, to do the parts of her job that weren't included in a civilian mechanic's job description. What Trish  **_didn't_ ** know however was the amount of transfer requests to active duty units Nikki had submitted. 

What she didn't know couldn't hurt her and after all they always came back the same: [We regret to inform you that the unit in question does not currently have any vacancies for someone of your rank and MOS]

It was frustrating as hell but there was nothing she could do about it. So she focused on her work and on her training, picking up as many amateur fights as she could along the way, and she ran. 

Boy did she run.

She went for a run most days, sometimes twice a day, going out again in the evening if something pissed her off at work and she needed to clear her head. Normally however it was morning runs, before a shower and breakfast, unless she was scheduled for PT or morning formation of course. She wasn't willing to risk being late for one of them.

It was during one such run that she experienced the third crossroads moment of her life, although she didn't realise it at the time and it would sound absurd later.

1) Batarians share their cultural traditions with the humans of Mindoir,

2) Spat on by a thresher maw,

3) Went for a run.

Crazy but true.

Each of those moments had multiple possible outcomes that could have changed the course of her life and career, putting her on a completely different path to the one she was destined for. For once, at least, this particular defining moment didn't have an instant death option. 

However she didn't know any of this at the time. She simply felt a presence behind her and saw a flash of red and white in her peripheral vision as someone fell into step beside her.

"Shepard, thought I recognised you." 

It took a moment for her to identify the other jogger's voice. It had been over a year since she'd heard it last and their conversations had mostly been brief and always work orientated. 

_ Anderson _ . 

Some gut feeling told her this was no coincidental run in. She kept her pace even and her head facing straight, allowing the occasional glance out the corner of her eye.

"Sir."

"A little birdie told me you keep putting in transfer requests."

"It's ok to talk to animals Sir, but usually when they start talking back it's considered a bad sign."  _ Shit, why'd I have to go and say that? Back talking an officer's not going to improve my chances of getting out of here _ . 

Fortunately he chuckled, merely upping the pace a fraction, Nikki matching the switch in tempo seamlessly.

"Just how badly do you want to get back out there Shepard?" 

Her brow furrowed.

"Is this supposed to be a test Sir? Are you hoping for some pithy macho bull like 'I'd kill for it'? I don't know the secret handshake or the magic passcode but I want it Sir."

"Do you want it enough to go through hell at the Villa?" 

She halted in surprise at his words, turning to look at him, but the N7 didn't stop for her or even slow down. She had to sprint to catch back up with him and as she dropped back down to his pace she noticed he'd upped it again.

"The Villa? You mean  **_'the_ ** Villa' villa? Rio de Janeiro?"

"That's the one. Vila Militar, home of the Interplanetary Combatives Training program. We'll be putting a fresh batch of trainees through the wringer in just over a month's time. Do you want in?"

"I thought only officers could be recruited for N-School?"

"Usually you'd be right. In over twenty years of ICT history there have been only two exceptions to that rule. We're willing to make you the third."

"Why?"

"Akuze."

She'd known the answer as soon as she'd asked the question. It was obvious really.

"You don't have to give me an answer this instant of course, take a couple of days to think about it and let me kno-"

"I'll do it."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"You know they won't take it easy on you because of your rank? If anything they'll come down harder on you."

"Thresher maw didn't take it any easier on the lower ranks either Sir. Don't worry, I can handle your training instructors."

"I'll do you one favour and one favour only Shepard… I won't tell the rest of them you said that." He didn't say anything else for a while, merely watching her appraisingly as they ran. "Ok. I'll arrange the paperwork."

...

"The Villa? Isn't that like super spec ops school or something?" Trish queried.

"That's the one." The mechanic smiled.

"Fuck, Nikki... Do you know what that means?"

"I know right, it's so-" She trailed off as her brain caught up to her ears and she processed the distinct lack of excited pride in her girlfriend's voice. Not even repressed, like how she used to pretend to be mock disappointed at not being told about her promotions sooner. 

No, the emotion hiding in Trish's voice sounded remarkably close to... Panic. 

Shepard suddenly felt an inexplicable feeling of dread that she'd somehow just messed up.

"Jesus Nick! Wasn't nearly dying once enough for you?"

"What? Ah, come on, it's not like that Trish. I thought we'd talked about this?"

"No, we talked about you going on active ship postings. Your old job back, combat and all.  **_Not_ ** switching to a full time combat role. And not even just with the infantry but full on 'shit's hit the fan, everything's gone to hell, call in the N guys' level of combat."

"Well ok yeah, missions might be tougher. But you get better weapons, better training and sometimes you even get intel on the mission before you start it. You have no idea how often my mission briefs used to be: 'someone's activated a distress beacon, we have no idea why, go find out'. Sometimes the only intel we had was whether we'd be landing on a planet or docking with a ship. At least if spec ops dock with a ship they normally acquire the blueprints for it first... And none of this is convincing you in the slightest is it?" 

She sighed as Trish shook her head. They sat in silence for a moment before Nikki broke it with another sigh. 

"Well I'm here. I'm willing to talk. I'm keeping up my side of the bargain, I just... I don't know what to say Trish..."

"... Is this truly what you want to do?"

"...Yeah. I'm sorry Trish but yeah. I can't stay here teaching apprentices the quickest way to scrape off omni-gel and that screws are 'righty tighty, lefty loosey' my whole life."

"What if that wasn't your only two choices. What if you were out on a ship posting somewhere, the kind of job you wanted a couple of weeks ago, and this guy came up to you and offered you the villa, would you still want it then?" 

There was a pause as the soldier gave it due consideration.

"I think I would."

"Ok then."

"What do you mean 'ok then'?" Nikki frowned.

"Ok then, do it."

"Hang on. A moment ago you didn't want me to do this."

It was Trish's turn to sigh as she stared at her partner a moment as if she was weighing something up in her head and waging an internal war with herself. She finally made a decision.

"Cards on the table time? Everything out in the open?" 

There was a moment's hesitation, fingers tapping a small, fast, nervous rhythm, then Shepard gave a curt nod to continue. 

"Akuze scared me Nick, I honestly didn't know if you were going to make it out that hospital room alive and I don't want to ever have to go through that again...  **_but_ ** ... You're a marine. I knew that when we got back together. Marine's run into danger, I can't just wrap you up in cotton wool the rest of your life, no matter how much I want to keep you safe." 

Shepard looked contrite at her partner's confession, unsure how to respond.

"You could always try bubble wrap. Bubble wrap could be fun."

"You'd start running into walls just to see how many bubbles you could pop." Trish dismissed, but she couldn't help a light smile forming at the mental image.

"Probably." Nikki admitted before releasing another low exhale. "I hurt you without meaning to before Trish, I don't want to do it again... If you're not ok about this I need to know now. Tell me not to do it and I won't. Hell, tell me to leave the Alliance and I'll leave and... Well... I don't quite know what I'd do but I'd find something."

"You'd really give it all up for me?"

"I don't want to lose you Trish. I know I don't deserve you and I don't know how the hell you put up with all the crap I've dragged you through these past six months, so yeah... ask me to choose, my job or you, and I'll choose you. If that's what you want then all you got to do is give the order." 

Trish allowed herself the faintest bittersweet smile before shaking her head with a sigh.

"You wouldn't be happy Nick." 

The soldier shrugged as if it was of no importance. 

"Just now, talking about the villa, before me and my big mouth had to ruin everything... that's the happiest I've seen you in months..." 

Shepard opened her mouth to protest, but the civilian raised a hand to stop her, determined to get through what she wanted to say without interruption.

"You've always supported me, when I wanted this job but didn't think I had enough experience it was you that convinced me to apply anyway. You've never asked me to give up anything for you. The least I can do is the same. Just... promise me you'll be careful. Promise me no matter how bad things get you'll always talk to me, you won't shut me out again. Promise me if you find yourself no longer getting job satisfaction you'll find a way out... You promise me all that and I won't stop you Nikki."

"I promise I'll be as careful as I can be, I'll talk about whatever you want as long as it's not classified and if I stop getting job satisfaction I'll find a way out." Nikki repeated, Trish smiling at the additional subclauses.

It was close enough. 

In fact it was better than a word for word repeat, it meant her girlfriend was actually thinking about what she was saying and making sure her promises were feasible rather than just going through the motions in order to appease her.

"Ok, good. Right... That's settled then." It was as far as she was concerned but she couldn't think of anything else to talk about and the silence was in danger of getting awkward. She knew if she didn't come up with a new topic Nikki would start overthinking the last one. "So... do you want make up sex?" 

Nick laughed in surprise at the abrupt subject change, eyes lighting up in amusement before the grin faded, eyes roving her partner's face analytically.

"You're sure about this?"

"Sex? Of course, I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."

Nikki rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know... I'm sure." 

A small smile curled hesitantly on the soldier's lips.

"I love you."

"I know." Trish reassured, voice certain and sure before dropping to a playful whisper as she challenged: "Now prove it to me."


	18. Chapter 18

"You all got here in different ways. Some of you broke so many records at the Academy that they sent you straight here. Some built up a long and steady reputation of excellence out in the field over many campaigns, and others are here based on a single action. Some of you impressed the brass. Some of you impressed  _ us _ ." 

There was no doubt in Shepard's mind that the three N7s before her considered the last option harder than the first.

There was no Anderson in the welcoming committee, she didn't recognise either of the two men or the woman stood with their hands clasped behind their back in the 'at ease' position at the front of the mess hall. While the rest of the 200 plus soldiers present in the hall were dressed in BDUs, the trio just wore combat pants and a simple black t-shirt with the coveted red and white stripe on the right arm and N7 logo on the left chest. Despite the simplicity it made for an impressive and inspiring sight.

"It doesn't matter how you got here, what you've done or who you think you are. You are all just trainees now. You no longer have a rank, hell for the next 15 weeks you don't even have a name."

It wasn't until that moment that Shepard realised the instructor's t-shirts served a dual purpose. She had been highly aware, even with everyone's insignia removed before admittance, that she was the only non-officer present, but she suddenly realised that some of the 'trainees' may well even outrank the instructors in the real world.

"Perform well enough and maybe we'll remember your name when writing out the N2 course invites. You'll have to be good though... Hell, half of you won't even make it through tomorrow."

"Welcome to the Villa ladies and gentlemen. Tonight I suggest you eat well and sleep well, because tomorrow, we welcome you to Hell."

...

"Good morning and welcome to Hell!" 

Shepard bit back a groan. Not, as one might expect, as a result of the early start or the preceding racket of mess tins being clashed loudly together, but rather at the awfulness of the instructor's opening line. 

She was half way through rolling off her bunk to stand to attention as had so successfully been drilled into her during Basic when she realised she wasn't actually on a bed but the ground, and she sure as hell didn't remember going to sleep in an environmental suit either! 

Her senses instantly went on high alert as she took in her surroundings.

She was alone on rocky, uneven terrain and the sky above was the deepest of blacks only found in uninhabited space with zero light pollution from sentient made sources.  _ A moon? Asteroid? _ A short study of the stars against her (admittedly low) astrological knowledge provided no clue other than to confirm they weren't in the local cluster any more. Not Mindoir's star system either. 

The voice returned and this time she was awake enough to notice it came through her earpiece.

"The more observant among you may have noticed, this isn't Brazil!" 

_ No fucking shit _ , Shepard thought as she noticed a pack tethered down a couple of meters away and went to check it out, being very careful not to let anything float off in the low gravity environment.

_ There's no way they managed to put me in a suit and fly us out here without waking me up, they must have drugged us.  _

_ In the food?  _

_ No, too many variables, no way to control dosage.  _

_ Injection or gas?  _

_ Doesn't matter. Past is past. Focus on what's important. _

She found an omni-tool and booted it up, directly patching her enviro-suit's remote data signal into it:  _ Let's see... just under 5 hours worth of oxygen left _ . She set an alert for 20 minutes and 5 minutes before she was due to run out of air and continued searching the 'tool for anything useful... no navigational data and no extranet connection... 

_ Well that would have been too easy. What  _ **_does_ ** _ it have? _

Even as she worked she kept listening to the voice broadcasting over the comm frequency, just in case he actually said something useful. 

_ Like what we're actually supposed to do out here. Ah, there _ ... 

She nearly bypassed the cartography program as she scrolled through the list of installed applications. It wasn't something they were taught to use in Basic, but fortunately reading the name was enough to trigger a faint memory of being attached as mechanic to a survey team during a previous ship posting. They'd used the program on uncharted worlds, it hadn't been her department so she was by no means an expert, but three weeks stuck in a Grizzly with the same people doing the same job each day was enough to pick up a few things.

It utilized an advanced form of radar,  _ or was it lidar? Shit I can't remember, ah well doesn't matter, point is... _ It wouldn't tell her where she was, and she couldn't use it to navigate in the traditional sense, but it would fill in the immediate area around her as she moved so she could trace her route back if needs be. At least she'd know if she started walking around in circles.

"The sole objective of today's exercise is to survive. You all have four hours worth of oxygen in your suits, the test doesn't end until the last person runs out of oxygen." 

_ Wait, what? _ She double checked her own readings, definitely closer to five.

_ Well they've got to be cautious I suppose, just in case someone doesn't know how to take their own readings. They don't want people cutting it too fine and dying out here, think of the paperwork _ . 

She set another alert for the time they reckoned she had left, just to be safe.

"Anything less than 12 hours is an automatic fail. Dying is also an automatic fail. Don't do it. You have two flares, green if you're done and want a lift home and red for emergency evac..." 

_ Ok, so all I have to do is either find more oxygen on a barren asteroid or come up with a way to make the existing lot last at least three times longer than normal. Simple right? _

In the far distance she thought she saw a green flare shoot up on her 10 o'clock. 

_ We did  _ **_not_ ** _ cover this in Basic.  _

_ That is true, but so not helpful right now. Come on brain think. _

Another flare, 1 o'clock. 

_ What happened to old school training where they taught you things BEFORE testing you on them?  _

_ Good question, sadly irrelevant. Come on! Plans, ideas, anything _ . 

7 o'clock. 

_ Yeah I got nothing _ . 

A shuttle passed over head towards one of the flares and she absentmindedly made a note of it's flight path on her omni-tool. 

_ Nothing here. Nada. _

3 o'clock, red. 

_ Well, I guess that settles it then... No other way... _

12 o'clock, green. 

_ Got no choice...  _

_ Yep, looks like it...  _

_ Fine...  _

_ Right...  _

_ Okay...  _

_ So I've got just over four hours to find someone else who  _ **_does_ ** _ have a plan. _

...

"Sir, we've got a problem." 

The N7 in charge of overseeing the exercise walked over to the technician who'd called out. He wasn't worried about the high number of tap outs, it was expected and planned for, deliberate even. 

So many people came to N training having prepared for forced marches and other traditional tests of physical endurance, that would of course be included later, as would dummy missions to test tactics and lessons on some of the more specialist skills required of an N-operative that the majority of trainees wouldn't have had an opportunity to learn anywhere else in the Alliance. 

However before they spent time and resources training people up they needed to know what would happen when that training failed. How would they handle situations that couldn't be planned for? Situations when there was not only no easy way out, but not even an obvious hard way.

What the N program was really interested in, what made their graduates 'the few', was a character trait that could never be taught. It may lie dormant, hidden and unknown until such time as it was needed, but a person either had it or they didn't. 

He looked at the technician's screen, a quadrant of the training area mapped out, dots representing trainees beginning to clump together in small groups.

"What's wrong?"

"We've just lost five tracking signals. All suit data, comms, the lot." 

It was top of the range equipment, the chances of one of them failing was unlikely but possible. Five however? One of the trainees had to be deliberately jamming the signals.

"I want IDs on who's missing, I take it they were all together?" 

A nod. 

"Get me a transcript of the last few minutes of audio we captured off their armour mics before we lost contact." It was mere moments before he was given the requested information.

{ **5923-AC-2826** : Have any of you been recording the shuttle flight vectors?

**5924-AV-2984** : Yeah

**5926-CD-5689** : No

**5899-ZA-8954** : A few, at the start.

**6017-BD-0096** : I programmed my omni-tool to record them automatically, why? What are you- You're thinking of triangulation?

**5923-AC-2826** : It's a long shot I know but-

**5899-ZA-8954** : No, it's no good. Maybe if they were only doing one pick up in each run, but they've been picking up multiple evacs at a time, plus we're talking N-school. There's no way those pilots are flying straight lines back to base each time.

**6017-BD-0096** : There will still be hot spots though. Areas with more concentrated activity, and if we remove the flare locations from the data-

**5923-AC-2826** : Wait, you can do that?

**6017-BD-0096** : Retroactively? No, but luckily I had my omni record flare locations as well. With the two data maps I can overlay them-

**5924-AV-2984** : How did you even-

**6017-BD-0096** : If you want I can teach you, but it'll have to wait until after we're not running out of oxygen. Point is, I should be able to narrow it down to a couple of possible locations. You're sure this is worth our time?

**5923-AC-2826** : There's got to be an ops centre monitoring us and one way or another they've got to have enough oxygen to be sure of outlasting the rest of us. It- Shit! Idiot! Riley, Meyer, you're the engineers can you block any signals the five of us might be giving off?

**5899-ZA-8954** : Fuck! Why didn't I think of th- }

"They're going to attack us." The N7 smiled to himself, an action which didn't reassure the technicians in the room. 

It wasn't the first time trainees on the N1 course had resorted to this plan and it wouldn't be the last, but it had been a few years since anyone pulled it off. He looked down at the personnel records linked to the missing trackers.

[Malhotra, Vihaan (5924-AV-2984) 

Meyer, Nils (5899-ZA-8954) 

Riley, Lee (6017-BD-0096) 

Rizzi, Susan (5926-CD-5689) 

Shepard, Nicola (5923-AC-2826)]

This was going to be fun. 

...

_ They were all just trainees _ , she repeated to herself. It didn't matter what they did or who they'd been before coming to the villa. So  **why** was Anderson's warning about the risk of them being harder on her for not being an officer feeling so prophetic? 

Of course everybody got a certain amount of hazing, she wasn't the only one. It just felt like her's was more extreme and physically demanding than the others.

The amount of times they'd stumbled into a rest camp after a 20 hour training session, more than ready to claim the four hours of exhausted sleep they were allowed before being woken back up to go back out again, only for some bastard to call out '2826 with me' and she'd have to spend an extra hour reading some book, or coming up with a battle plan for x number of men to achieve such and such an objective using this map/3d model/intel photos while everybody else got to sleep.

She hadn't seen Anderson since he'd offered her a place at the villa. She wasn't sure if it was because the N7s had some kind of rotation for stints as an instructor or a set plan for who did what and he just dealt with N3s, or if he was simply on active duty assignment somewhere else.

_ Or protective custody so I can't kill him! _

She couldn't help feeling he was somehow responsible for her most physically grueling hazing, after all how would the other instructors know about her pet hate? It had started in week 4 and it just hadn't stopped.

"Sniper rifle, pistol and shotgun. One 24 hour rat pack, three packets of medi gel, six packets of omni gel-"

"Hold up a minute." Instructor no.1's read out of their personal inventory for the next three days was interrupted by asshole instructor no.2 "Trainee 2826 doesn't like omni-gel do you? Thinks it's a worthless piece of shit, that doesn't fix anything. There's no point her carrying that much around all day if she's never going to use it." There was a sadistic smirk as he halted in front of her.

_ Oh fuck, they're going to sabotage something of mine aren't they? I'm going to have broken equipment and no way to fix it all becau- _

"Here you go Two-Six, you can carry this tomorrow instead. Why don't you take a look, make sure we've not missed anything out."

_ Shit! _ Shepard thought as she looked at the heavy rollout canvas toolbag he offered her.  _ At least it's not in a metal toolbox I suppose _ . Most military nuts and bolts of the 22nd century came in one of four sizes, so why she'd need  **_twelve_ ** different sized spanners she had no idea. There was also a vast assortment of other tools with a varying amount of practicality. 

_ Can we go back to the 'not having any way to fix your sabotage' idea? _ Of course she knew better than to say she wouldn't need them.

"Thank you Sir. Don't suppose there's a left handed screwdriver in there?"  _ On second thoughts maybe that's why I keep getting hazed. I really need a new filter between my brain and mouth, my current one seems to be defective. _

"Believe me Two-Six, for you I could find one."

...

_ This is pure fucking torture! _

_ Well that  _ **_is_ ** _ kind of the point of SERE training. _

_ I'm not talking about the stress positions, although this is  _ **_really_ ** _ starting to fucking hurt right now. _

_ Quit whining, it's a tickle compared to thresher acid. _

_ I remember, and I'm not moaning about the pain, you have no idea how hard this is for me right now. _

_ I have no idea? I am you! You realise talking to yourself is the first sign of madness right? _

_ Shh, it's fine, as long as we don't say anything out loud we can still pass. _

_ Still counts as madness. _

_ Yeah well, if I am I totally blame it on that fucking boots poem. Man if that Kipling bloke weren't already dead I'd kill him. Hey did they just turn the flashy lights off or have we blacked out again? _

_ No, pretty sure they turned it off. They'll be back with more questions soon. _

_ Why haven't they turned off the siren? _

_ Err... I think they have... I think that's just our ears still ringing. Do you think we could sneak a drink without drowning next water boarding session? _

_ I told you not to think about being thirsty! _

_ I'm not I-... that was the door, we ready? _

_ Yep, ready. _

_ Good, now just shut up and let me handle this. _

_ Hey! My answers are much better! _

_ Don't you fucking dare, I'm pretty sure we nearly got kicked out when you answered in Batarian last time. _

_ Come on, all I said was "I can't answer that question". _

_ Yeah and that's probably the  _ **_only_ ** _ reason we didn't get a red mark, I'm pretty sure 'oh, so you can speak Batarian then?' was our one and only warning not to piss around. _

_ Pfft... _

_ Look, please? We're nearly through this, we've come too far to lose now _ .

_ Ok, okay, I wasn't planning on giving up either you know. _

"How are we feeling today?" 

Shepard stayed silent as the interrogator entered the room. She didn't recognise the guy, they must have swapped them all around again. 

"Can I get you anything? Food? Water? A doctor perhaps?" 

So they were finally going with the friendly approach? Tough luck. She stayed shtum. 

He released a sigh and sat down on a chair in front of her.

"Well can't I at least know who I'm talking to? You're allowed to give me that much right?"

"Shepard, Sergeant, 5923-AC-2826"

"Shepard. Ok Shepard, and who's your commanding officer?"

"I can't answer that question."

_ Pretty sure it ends in 'bastard' though. _

_ Shush, you promised. _

_ Hey I said I wouldn't say anything, you didn't say I couldn't think. _

_ I hate you brain _ .

"Are you sure? I can get a message to him, help you get out of here." 

Silence. 

"Come on, you just have to tell me who your commanding officer is and this will all be over."

"I can't answer that question."

_ You should have asked for a tape recorder, this is going to get so repetitive... AGAIN! _

"Ok, how about something else. What are you doing out here?"

_ I dare you to say: 'I'm on vacation' _ .

**_No_ ** . "I can't answer that question."

_ You're no fun anymore _ .

_ This ain't a damn vid brain, I'm not risking failure by goading them. The rules are simple,  _ **_NO_ ** _ other answer _ .

"What are your mission objectives Shepard?"

"I can't answer that question."

_ Wait a minute, didn't you and Rizzi reach the objective? Something about a 40 mile trek while evading capture from the guys on the N5 course? If you made it why are you here? _

_ Don't be stupid brain, you can't pass a SERE course without some interrogation, no matter how well you do on the Survive and Evade parts. _

_ Then why didn't we just get captured earlier and save ourselves the trouble? _

_ Because they didn't tell us in advance what the exercise pass conditions were, now shut up I missed the question. _

_ Meh, not like it matters, you know the answer. _

_ True _ . "I can't answer that question."

A full blown punch knocked her head to one side and forced her full attention back to the cell. She just had time to recognise the recently entered second man as her regular interrogator before she was dragged along the ground. Today's newbie looked at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry Shepard. You should have let me help you when you had the chance." 

Pain flared across her shoulder and she had to bite back a smile.  _ Back to business as usual. _

...

ICT training had certainly been hard, no doubt about it. Not just physically but mentally as well. It had been worth it though. Of the 268 trainees to start the program she was one of only 24 to graduate with the Summer '77 intake. 

_ And that was just N1. _

They'd get a short break, be appointed to new units and general duties before joining up with the survivors of the winter intake to tackle the N2 course. It was possible to defer a year or longer if you wanted to, but Nikki couldn't imagine she'd decline the invite. Not unless she was on tour when the course began.

"Shepard!" It seemed strange to hear her real name coming out the mouth of 'Asshole Instructor no.2' or 'Sir', but there he was, walking towards her with a smile. 

She'd seen a great many smiles on that man's face but never before one that seemed quite so benign. For some reason the prospect of him being nice put her even more on edge.

"Finally found that left handed screwdriver you were after." He pulled out a gold coloured figurine about one and a half times the size of a regular screwdriver and handed it over to her. She assumed it was only gold plated but whatever metal was the base was pretty damn heavy.

"Let me guess Sir, you're going to add that to my kit when I come back for N2?"

"Don't tempt me Two-Six. Don't tempt me. Could only get hold of it as part of a set, came with a pair of brass balls. I'd offer them to you but I don't think you need them. What do you reckon, should I give them to Meyer or Dubois?" 

She found a grin of her own spreading out to match his.

"I don't know, that's a close one Sir. You could always keep them, never know when you might need them." 

He glared at her, face stern, but she thought she caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eye.

"Get out of here Shepard before I change my mind. I've got N4s to torture in a couple of hours. Stupid masochists keep coming back for more."

...

"That, is not the uniform I handed in when I arrived." Shepard stated as they tried handing her back something with gold on it.

"Of course not. We can't have NCOs walking around claiming to have survived the villa now can we." 

_ This can't be happening, it's got to be a prank _ .

While she had been vaguely aware of the possibility of being commissioned after her stint at the villa, it had kind of slipped her mind during everything else that she'd endured in the past 15 weeks. She'd certainly expected them to still make her jump through all the usual hoops first though. At the very least, a fast track course at the Academy.

"But I've not even been to officer school! Are you sure you're allowed to just bump me up like that?" 

_ There's no way I can be a butterbar now... I still know how to read a map for starters! _

She could just imagine Badger laughing his arse off in the afterlife:  _ 'they made Shep an officer? That's it, no more driving for you!'  _

The woman behind the desk shook her head, unaware of the private mocking Shepard was receiving inside her mind.

"We can give you 10 weeks at OCS if you want, but it'd be pretty pointless. Why make someone do an A-level maths exam if they've got an engineering degree? What did you think all those extra hours were for?"

For once in her life Shepard was speechless. The idea that the extra hell and sleep deprivation she'd been subjected to was merely to fill a gap in her education that everybody else had already received elsewhere, rather than for more vindictive reasons... 

_ Actually kind of makes sense in hindsight. Could have bloody told me though. And that toolbox was NOT anything to do with Academy training. _

It was a bit like with Rizzi she realised. She'd assumed the instructors penchant for throwing things at the biotic came from some deep seated prejudice and desire to make her quit. However there was no denying the improvements to the strength and speed of Rizzi's barriers since the start of the course. 

While she had never seemed scared or wary of her powers like some biotics Shepard had served with, they had often been kept as a last resort, the lieutenant eager to prove she could handle things the 'normal' way as well as any other soldier. Now such preferences were immaterial, her barrier flaring instinctively at the first hint of danger, an extra level of protection the 'normal' N1s could only dream of.

Giving up (for the first time in over three months) Shepard accepted the new uniform and everything that came with it. It did however leave her with some important decisions to make. Such as: should she call Trish now and tell her about the promotion, or wait until she saw her?


	19. Chapter 19

The shuttle was full of noise as it lifted off, away from the Villa towards Galeao International Airport. The newly designated N1s chatting about their plans now they were free, scrolling through the personal omni-tools they had finally been reunited with and catching up on three months of emails and lost contact with the outside world.

Nikki was unusually quiet as she took in her empty inbox. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate, there was plenty of junk mail, and notifications from the Alliance confirming her commission and change of MOS. She tried not to read too much into it, but part of her couldn't help worry if Trish was still upset about her decision.

_ What if a lack of message now developed into a lack of Trish when she got back? _

Trish had said she was ok with it but what if she'd changed her mind? 

Or it might have been a test from the start and she'd failed and screwed up her relationship by putting her job first.

_ No, we talked about it, she might omit a detail and hide something from me but she'd never lie to my face. Then why... What if something's happened to her? She better be alright. Someone would have told me if she wasn't right? _

Despite the communications ban at the Villa there were still emergency channels in case of a family death or disaster. In that situation the trainee would be called off somewhere private to be given the news and a choice: stay at the villa and keep with the training, or go home with an open invitation to start the course again at Day 2 with the next intake. It hadn't happened so Trish must be fine,  _ but then why hasn't she... _

Mind you the civilian still had a living family, just because the soldier had her girlfriend listed as emergency contact didn't mean the paperwork was mutual. If something had happened it would be up to Trish's mother whether or not to let her know. 

Uncertainty swirled through her head as she raised her wrist to access her omni-tool once more, it looked like it was up to her to reinitiate communication but how to go about it?  _ Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. _

[Hey babe, really hope you're ok? I've not heard anyth} She stopped, deleting the half written message, hand reaching up to rub an eyebrow as she glared at the empty screen for inspiration.

...

Trish looked at the first message she'd received from Nikki in three, nearly four, months. As far as postings went the training course had actually been quite short. Sure she'd gotten used to her partner coming home on the weekends, but she'd always known it wouldn't last. That style of posting was the exception rather than the rule, and she'd been through much longer separations before.

Ok so they weren't actually going out during that first long ship posting back in '75 but Luna was six months, and after the scrambled response to the Skyllian Blitz it had been nine months before she saw her soldier again. This time had felt harder despite the relatively short duration. 

Even during their most busy moments on Luna they'd managed at least one vid call a week and some form of communication each day.

Even during the Blitz, when they were so far apart and Nick was regularly engaged in combat assignments, they had managed to keep in semi regular contact via text based messaging. 

So many times in the past 15 weeks she'd wanted to message Nikki, ask her how she was doing or some random insignificant question that popped into her mind. Share some bizarre fact or joke she'd heard that day, but she knew there was no communication allowed at the Villa and she hadn't wanted Nikki to be swamped with old messages when she finally got her 'tool back.

Didn't want the soldier to feel guilty about not replying when she hadn't been able to, or to worry that Trish could no longer handle being alone. She was a strong independent woman, she could cope just fine. Even  **_if_ ** she did have an entire folder of unsent draft messages for the other woman. 

None of which mattered now, the long wait was over and she had the evidence in her hands.

[Hey Trish, hope you're ok, I made it! So I know you probably want to hear all about it, (or maybe you don't, I don't actually know). Anyway, we can talk (or not) as much as you want when I get back. I learnt all kinds of new stuff while I was away, even did a bit on codes and ciphers, of course you're much cleverer than me so I'm sure you can break any code I use, why don't you take a look?]

There followed a vast array of tiny pictures, it had taken Trish awhile to decipher them to begin with. The first sequence were a picture of an eye, a box with a tick in it and a white building that looked quite fancy with a veranda out front. 

_ Eye, tick, fancy building... I passed villa! _

Then there was a new line with another set: Wave, sheep, email sign, aeroplane, question mark.

_ Sea ewe at plane? See you at the airport? _

Next was an old fashioned analogue watch face that Trish really hoped was showing the correct time for when Nikki's plane was due to arrive or else she could be waiting forever. Then another eye, a heart and a sheep.  _ I love you _ . 

The final line took her awhile to work out, but gave her the biggest grin when she did.

At least, she was 80% certain she'd translated correctly, she doubted she'd have worked it out if she hadn't been raised part military. It was a rectangular shaped platter with a block of butter on it followed by a shepherd's crook. She copy and pasted the last two images into a new message before pausing to think about her reply.

...

The nervousness Nikki had felt since leaving the villa had only doubled after sending the message and tripled once more when she finally heard the notification signifying a reply. It all faded the moment she opened it and saw the neat little pictograms inside. 

Butter bar, shepherd's crook. Wave, sheep, email sign, watch face. Heart... The last word was the only one in the message to be typed out using traditional letters, presumably her girlfriend couldn't think of a relevant picture.

[Lieutenant Shepard. See you at eight. Love Trish] 

While she loved the fact Trish had taken the time to keep her little game going, she suddenly found herself lacking the necessary patience and hurriedly typed out:

[See, told you you were clever. Love you too - Nikki]

[Wow, quick reply. Where are you? You free to call?] 

As soon as she'd read it Shepard was hitting the dial button, barely a single ring passing before her girlfriend answered.

"I'm at the airport in Rio and no, I  **_definitely_ ** can't call right now."

"Idiot. Please tell me that isn't actually how spec ops encrypts their secret messages?"

"I could tell you but then I'd have to quote cliche vid lines at you." The glorious laugh was somehow an even sweeter sound than she remembered. "So uh hey, I've been thinking... if it's alright with you can we go out somewhere when I get back? I mean, not necessarily straight away, the instant I get off the plane get back, but at some point while I'm home? I want to take you on a date. It's been ages since I've done something nice for you." 

Trish smiled at the slight undercurrent of hesitancy in Nikki's voice as if she was worried about the civilian saying no.  _ As if. _

"Of course we can! Do you have anything in particular in mind or is it supposed to be a surprise?"

"Ah, about that... can you plan it? I did check a few things out but there's no decent concerts this weekend and no biotiball games and I kind of ran out of ideas of things you'd like to do."

"Wouldn't that make it me taking you on a date?"

"No, I want to take you out. I'm paying for everything, you just get to choose where to go, make sure we actually do something you'll enjoy. Bonus points if you manage to look surprised when we turn up." 

Trish shook her head with a chuckle.  _ My girlfriend, the last romantic. _

"You really can't think of anything I'd enjoy?"

"Well, I don't actually know what San Francisco has to offer. I mean I know some great bars and clubs, but I can't dance and I'm not supposed to drink anymore so that kind of rules them out. And I know about the hills and trams but that's not exactly date material is it? And we did Alcatraz before I went off to Luna..." She shrugged even though Trish couldn't see her. "I don't know... you've lived there a couple of years now, there's got to be something you want to do but never got round to?"

"Alright I'll think of something."

"Great! Crap, that's my boarding call, I got to go. See you in a few hours?"

"You bet."

...

They were lucky it was a civilian plane with only a handful of military personnel onboard, Trish wasn't sure she would have identified her marine as easily if she'd been among the usual swarm of uniforms, and not just because of the new outfit. 

When she finally picked Nikki out she noticed she'd lost weight, not enough to be scrawny, just enough to be noticeable. The body mostly balanced it out with slight gain to the already toned muscles but it was most obvious on the gaunt looking cheeks. 

Speaking of her face, the yellowy brown of an old bruise was still visible around one eye, although it it didn't stop the eyes lighting up in joy as they caught sight of Trish. An infectious smile spread across her face, one the civilian quickly mirrored as they walked towards each other, meeting in a hug in the middle.

"You look amazing." The soldier confided.

"Thank you. You look..." She trailed off, pulling back slightly for another look and searching for the right word:  _ happy, battered, full of life, exhausted, _ "...Triumphant."

"Well I did pass."

"And with flying colours. You've finally got your insignia on your shoulders." Insignia that she instantly started playing with, she just couldn't seem to help it whenever she first saw her partner following a promotion.

"Still not Captain." Shepard teased, picking up on the reference to her last promotion.

"Not yet." Trish teased right back.

"Oh please don't. It's bad enough being a butterbar. I had to transfer flights in Vancouver, nearly got a sore arm acknowledging all those salutes."

"Really? You've just got back from the Villa and the first thing you do is moan about how tiring saluting is?" 

Nikki chuckled in acknowledgement.

"Alright, alright, point taken. It's just weird is all."

"As weird as officially being an N guy?"

"I think you mean officially being spec ops. I've got a few more courses to go before the old hands will let us be called N guys, to them N1s are classed as N babies... Ooh random subject change, I got you a present." She pulled out a see-through duty free carrier bag. "Sorry it's not wrapped, and it's a little crap and..." She handed it over but Trish didn't have a hope of thanking her as she continued with her excuses. "Only I didn't get a chance to go shopping and I didn't want to miss my plane and-"

"It's ok Nick, you didn't have to get me anything, I knew the Villa wasn't likely to have a gift shop."

"Ha they missed an opportunity there. They could have had postcards and 'I survived the Villa' merchandise or 'I can't answer that question' t-shirts. Oh man, I've totally got to get an 'I can't answer that question' t-shirt."

"In-joke?"

"Yeah, I can tell you about it later if you want. Can we go get something to eat? I honestly don't know what's worse right now MREs or plane food."

"Poor baby, four months of nothing but MREs, it must be horrible."

"Well, that's not entirely true... we did get to spend a week on RDA tablets." 

Trish laughed as they headed towards the exit.

"How long have we got this time?"

"Two weeks."

"We best make the most of it then."

"My thoughts exactly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal head canon: RDA (Recommended Daily Allowance) tablets are small pills scientifically constructed to contain the exact nutritional value recommended for the average human to consume each day in order to be healthy.
> 
> Most commonly used in spec ops survival kits and emergency aid relief packages or anywhere the acquisition and storage of food may prove to be problematic. While effective in providing what the body needs, people prefer not to use them unless they have to as their small size means psychologically you still feel hungry, the stomach is still empty so increased risk of acid reflux and it also leaves taste buds feeling unsatisfied.


	20. Chapter 20

"This is actually pretty accurate," Nikki stated as they began trekking through an artificial rainforest in the so called 'safari museum', originally built as an upgrade to, and then finally becoming a replacement for, the old San Francisco Zoo. "Nowhere near as hot and humid as the real thing of course, but enough to get the idea across and it looks pretty much spot on." 

Trish had been a little surprised that her partner had chosen this habitat first, figuring she would be bored of jungles by now after her stint at the Villa. Although the surprise was apparently too late to earn her bonus points.

They had compromised slightly over the whole 'who is taking who out' aspect and instead of fully planning everything for her own date, Trish had given Nick a datapad full of options that were acceptable and told her to pick one. 

The idea had been for her to still not know exactly what would happen, while giving Nikki the confidence of knowing that yes Trish would enjoy her decision. Plus leave plenty of ideas in reserve for the future. 

In typical Shepard fashion her girlfriend had been determined to try and squeeze them all into the two weeks to give her the best possible time and Trish had been forced to remind her that she still needed to go to work on some of those days and there was plenty of time to spread them out over future shore leaves.

Her introspection was broken by sudden, fast movement in the corner of her eye. There was a flash of orange and a bestial roar, but before she had a chance to react or even any time to process what she'd seen she was grabbed and spun round, coming to rest behind her marine. 

She peeked over Nikki's shoulder just in time to see a life size animatronic tiger come to a stop in front of them. A haptic display popping up beside it to allow access to photos, information and videos on the creature. Brain catching up to what happened and noting the way Nikki had instinctively reacted to put herself between the imagined danger, she couldn't help teasing her.

"Well done, very impressive. Now what's your plan to beat the dangerous beastie without any weapons or armour?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead." 

Trish could feel a faint wave of self-conscious awkwardness rolling off the soldier for the over the top reaction and decided not to embarrass her further, or at least, not just yet. Instead she leant her head round and kissed her on the cheek, whispering:

"Thank you for protecting me from the non-existent threat."

"You're welcome."

"In future you should probably think about your own survival first though."

There was a noncommittal grunt as Nicola fired up a video clip and pretended to be throughly enthralled by it's contents. Trish taking the opportunity to hug her from behind, the last of the N1's tension fading away as she relaxed in the civilian's arms. 

"They look magnificent, imagine what they must have been like in real life. Do they have any pics of the babies?"

"The babies were called cubs apparently." Nick informed her as she found the relevant file, smiling at the instant exclamation of cuteness.

...

Twenty minutes after leaving the tiger behind, Shepard proved her ability to follow orders when they triggered another big cat display. As the patchy tan coloured predator moved towards them, she pushed the civilian towards it and set off in the other direction, cackling hysterically and pushing herself up into the branches of a nearby tree.

"Idiot! You know they can climb right?" Trish yelled behind her, the twinkle in her eyes assuring her she wasn't in too much trouble. She had just turned back to the display, filled with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge when-

"What the fuck!" 

She faced the noise just in time to see her girlfriend scramble hurriedly out the tree, a telltale orange glow revealing another display. 

"Who the hell puts a snake in a tree?" 

Trish burst out laughing as Nikki strolled over with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Mother Nature Nick. Mother Nature puts snakes in trees." 

The marine huffed and decided to change the subject: "Find anything interesting on spotty here?"

...

Three species later Nikki realised that they weren't going to be seeing everything today. There were multiple ways to experience the safari depending on personal preference, with most people choosing which animals they wanted to see in advance and the attraction's optional app to their omni-tool plotting a route showing how to get between them efficiently.

The app could also be used to customize the experience with options on whether to trigger animal encounters that weren't on your 'to see' list when setting off the proximity settings. Somewhat naively they had decided to forego the route planner and simply wander the grounds, leaving it completely to chance what they'd find. Every time they triggered a new exhibit Trish would become engrossed in the display, devouring every piece of information she could find.

As Trish stared enrapt at the explanation of how the nocturnal Aye-aye used it's long thin middle finger like a woodpecker's beak to search for grubs inside trees, Nikki started browsing the extranet on her omni-tool. 

By the time they were informed how superstitious Madagascan tribes used to believe the Aye-aye was a death dealing demon that should be killed on sight, she had just finished upgrading them both to an annual membership pass.

...

"That bad huh?" Nikki didn't even have to ask how the meeting went. Today was the day Trish presented her proposals to the board. Proposals that would see the bluewire's shield bonus double. She had been so excited this morning as she left for work, it was a sharp contrast to the angry, irritated woman who returned.

"Too expensive. It could make the difference between life and death in combat for our troops and it's too fucking expensive!" She raged, flopping down onto the sofa in defeat. "Ever wondered how much a soldier's life is worth? Not that much apparently."

"Relax babe, we're used to it."

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO BE USED TO IT!" Nikki smiled at the outburst, safe in the knowledge that the anger wasn't aimed at her.

"Oh but we are, it's in Murphy's regs and everything. 'Never forget your weapon is made by the lowest bidder'. It's right in between 'when you have secured an area don't forget to tell the enemy' and 'friendly fire isn't'."

"What other pearls of wisdom did Murphy set for you?"

"Teamwork is essential, it gives them someone else to shoot at." 

Trish shook her head despairingly but Nick caught the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth. 

"Oh and a very important one, 'the enemy only ever attacks on two occasions: when you're ready for them and when you're not!'" 

Trish's response was more of a scoff than a laugh but she'd take it.

...

"You know, there's these people called dentists you could go to." Trish stated, swirling the wine around in her glass above her empty plate as she waited for Nikki to finish eating. 

She wasn't sure if it was coincidence or if they somehow subconsciously paced themselves against each other, but normally they'd finish their meals within a couple of minutes of one another. She'd been dimly aware yesterday that it took Nikki longer than normal to finish, but they'd been talking so she hadn't paid much attention to it until she noticed her falling behind again tonight.

Then she'd paid closer attention and started noticing the microscopic clues.

"Why bother? It only hurts when I'm eating, it's not a problem the rest of the time."

"Yeah... Next thing I know you'll be saying your lungs only hurt when you breathe! Believe it or not teeth aren't supposed to hurt at any time Nick." 

The soldier shrugged nonchalantly as she swallowed another mouthful, piling more food onto her fork as she answered:

"Normally it stops hurting on it's own, just needs a bit of time is all. I'll give it another couple of weeks, if it's still hurting after that I'll think about it." 

Trish shook her head despairingly but said nothing as she took a sip of wine. Shepard took another bite, nearly managing to hide the slight grimace at the sharp jolt of pain as a piece of food hit the problem tooth.

"Come on this is stupid, just because you can deal with worse pain doesn't mean you have to. It's not even like you have to pay, the Alliance has dental plans you know?"

"Yeah right, I'll go in with one sore tooth and come out with half my mouth missing and needing dentures. I'm pretty sure they still use pliers and no anesthetic." 

This time there was a quirk to the corner of Trish's lips even as she shook her head again.

"You are  **_far_ ** too stubborn."

...

"I knew I should have got everything ready last night... Seriously, where's my uniform?"

"I don't know, have you tried the study?"

"Why would it-" Nikki trailed off as she remembered  **_exactly_ ** why her uniform would be sprawled across the other room in pieces and decided to change questions instead. "How do I not have a spare one here?"

"Probably because you went straight on leave after getting promoted. Can't you just wear an old one?"

"I think people might notice. There's a difference between Sergeant no.2s and Lieutenant no.1s you know." There was a snort and Nikki turned quizzically towards the sound, she shook her head with a sigh as she realised what it was that her girlfriend found funny. "I swear your mind's as dirty as a marine's sometimes."

As great as the sight of her partner in her underwear was, Trish decided she best get up and help. Although admittedly that decision may have been swayed by the fact that Nikki had left the room and she could no longer just lay there watching appreciatively from the bed.

By the time she made it to the study Nikki had acquired and put on some trousers, spotting the hat under the desk she went to collect it just as the civilian's alarm went off. 

"Great, and now I've got to get ready as well."

"At least you can wear what ever you want at work." Nikki dismissed good naturedly as she searched for the rest of her uniform.

"We do still have to look smart you know."

"Pfft, just rock up in a t-shirt with an MRI scan of your brain on it, you'll be fine." 

Trish laughed, putting the hat on her still topless girlfriend along with a kiss which was instantly and happily returned. After probably too long and nowhere near long enough the soldier pulled away. 

"You know this is exactly what got us into this mess in the first place!"


	21. Chapter 21

It was a fact of dating service personnel that just because you had something planned in advance, didn't mean you'd get to do it. Trish would never say she exactly  _ liked _ that element of her relationship with Nikki, but she understood and accepted it. 

So, after half an hour had elapsed since their vid call had been scheduled and she still hadn't received any kind of explanation or apology, she didn't bother getting angry. 

Sure she was disappointed. She'd been looking forward to it all day. However it was hardly the first time it had happened and she knew it wouldn't be the last. 

Instead she made herself a hot chocolate with marshmallows, made sure the volume on her omni-tool was on max in case Nikki finally tried to call and curled up on the sofa to binge watch her latest guilty pleasure.

Four episodes later she was struggling to keep her eyes open, the clock on the wall informing her it was nearly tomorrow already. Giving up and calling it a night, she was halfway through brushing her teeth when she was startled by a far too loud message alert as an email made it to her inbox.

[Hey babe, I am so  **_so_ ** sorry. Something unexpected came up at work. Any chance we can try again same time tomorrow? Let me know. Love Nikki. (P.S. Hope I didn't wake you, sorry) ] 

Trish finished getting ready for bed, snuggling under the duvet before typing a reply.

[Figured it was something like that. You ok? I'm busy tomorrow, if you plus two hours to the start time I should hopefully be free. It's ok, didn't wake me, just turning in now.]

[Plus two hours, copy that. Hopefully we can get tomorrow to work out. Don't worry I'm five by five, so's all my guys. Night then, sweet dreams.]

...

"Sorry about last night." Nikki apologised again as soon as Trish answered the call. The civilian gave her a subtle once over to check for wounds, relaxing when she didn't find any.

"It's alright."

"So, uhh... I know this might seem really random but are you still wanting a puppy?" There was something slightly off in her partner's voice but Trish couldn't work out what it was.

"Yes I am." She hedged cautiously. She'd been thinking on and off about getting a pet for a while now and while there were plenty of lower maintenance, much more logical options, her heart kept coming back to rest on a dog.

"You haven't got one yet have you?"

"No, but-"

"Oh good!"

"That's it? You're not going to let me talk about it?"

"What? No no no, wait babe, I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to make sure you didn't already have one, I might have found you a possible candidate. Ramirez bring her over!" Nikki turned her head and raised her voice on the last sentence and there was a pause before another pair of arms entered frame, carefully depositing a small bundle of fluff on the table. "What do you think?"

"Where did you find her?"

"Remember that unexpected job last night? Ghost ship. Little critter here was the only living thing onboard. Well... Unless you count the flora, two cacti plants and a bonsai tree, they've already found new homes though."

"The plants found homes before the puppy?"

"Well uh... I err...  _ may _ have pulled rank on the rest of the response team to get you right of first refusal." The soldier looked sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment and Trish couldn't hold back her laugh.

"What happened to 'I'm not going to be one of those bitches who goes around pulling rank all the time'?"

"You kept saying you wanted a dog!"

"I did! I do. This isn't going to turn into one of those horror vids where it turns out the only reason she was found alive is to act as host to some creepy malevolent being so it can escape to civilization and find more prey is it?" 

Nikki smiled but offered neither confirmation or denial as she simply shrugged.

"Med team did a full check up, there's starting signs of malnutrition but otherwise healthy and no abnormalities. We've still got a long way to go before we next make planetfall so I'm sure if it is a demon dog it'll start picking off crew members before then." The soldier's face suddenly grew more serious. "You can say no if you don't want her you know. There's plenty people on the ship willing to adopt her. Pretty sure the only reason the captain didn't pull rank on me is because her husband's allergic."

"Does she have a name? The dog, not the captain I mean." 

Shepard smiled at the way Trish felt a need to clarify.

"Not yet, you can pick one if you decide to keep her."

"Let me see her paws, I want to know how big she's likely to get." The camera tilted to fulfill her order, showing off fuzzy black and tan paws on a spotless mess table. "Great, now any chance I can see them next to something I actually know the size of for comparison?" 

The camera moved back to its original position, Nikki picking up the pup and holding it up to her face, extending one paw out and placing it over her lips. 

"You can quit with the puppy eyes."

"Don't be silly, she can't help it, she's a dog!"

"I meant you, doofus!"

...

"I decided on a name. What do you think about Judy?" 

Nikki didn't look up from playing with the puppy in question as she answered with a slight shrug.

"Whatever you want babe."

"You don't like it."

"It's fine. I said you could choose, didn't I."

"What's wrong with Judy?"

"Nothing!" Trish fixed her partner with a look. "I just... wouldn't have minded something a little more badass. Judy's fine though."

"A name doesn't guarantee personality traits you know. Besides, two dogs named Judy have won the Dickin medal." She got a blank look of confusion at that but it was one that translated into 'if you're going to talk about this then please explain more' rather than 'shut up with all the confusing crap'. "It's a gallantry award for animals created during the Second World War. That was before the first human in space by the way."

"I know. I do know  _ some _ history."

"Just making sure, I know how distracted you used to get in Mrs Lewis' class." There was the faintest hints of a blush as the soldier ducked her head down with a smile.

"So, what did the Judys do to earn their medals?" It was the first Nikki had heard about any of this but she knew if Trish had learnt this much then she'd have researched much deeper into it as well.

"One of them was one half of a pair of boxer dogs called Punch and Judy who saved two British officers in Israel from an armed terrorist, getting severely wounded in the attack, and the other was a mascot on a Royal Navy gunboat who had all kinds of crazy adventures. Including surviving two sinking ships, trekking through 200 miles of jungle, three years in various Japanese P.O.W camps. She saved lives, not only helping drowning sailors reach floating debris but distracting guards for the prisoners and warning about tigers and elephants..." 

She trailed off, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she thought back to the heartbreaking details of hardship and heroism in the book she'd downloaded purely out of curiosity. Nikki had a smile on her face as she saw the passion with which Trish spoke.

"Okay I take it back, Judy's a great name for a dog. I love it. It's like a secret badass name, nobody will suspect how awesome it is but we'll know... Nuh, uh, get back over here Judy." The soldier raised slightly from a sitting to a kneeling position in order to overcome the puppy's attempt to wander off and cause trouble. "So did you find all this out before or after I secured you a dog?"

"Well it- Hang on, are you guys playing with a sock?"

"Yeah." 

The civilian groaned in despair.

"What? There's not exactly an abundance of dog toys on Alliance warships you know."

"I know sweetheart but you couldn't have chosen something other than an item of clothing? If you're not careful she's going to think all socks are toys, it'll be a nightmare."

"Oh, sorry babe I didn't think of that. I'll find something else tomorrow. Cobb had a baseball but it's too big and hard for her tiny mouth at the moment. Maybe I should hijack the ship's comms, ask if anybody has any little balls I can play with." 

There was an instant snort.

"Maybe don't word it  _ quite _ like that."

...

Trish watched the steady flow of uniforms disembarking from the ship, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of her marine, but it was actually Judy she saw first. 

It was lucky Nikki had sent her an almost constant bombardment of photos because she doubted she'd have recognised it as the same tiny ball of fluff she had seen on vid call so long ago. Although, thinking about it, she highly doubted there were TWO dogs on an Alliance vessel.

Then her eyes drifted up, meeting those of the lieutenant holding Judy's leash and she pretty much stopped thinking altogether. 

She no longer noticed the people around them, the dropped leash, the instantly obeyed order to sit and stay…

They finally let their mouths part for air but didn't relinquish their hug and Trish rested her head on Shepard's shoulder, gazing contentedly out at the rest of the docks before her attention was drawn to one thing in particular.

"Umm... Nikki?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are people saluting the dog?"

"Ah..." The soldier twisted her head round to see, sure enough a steady stream of enlisted personnel were slowing as they passed in order to salute. The young puppy nodding an acknowledgement back at each and every one of them. "... It's a long story."

"What did you do this time?" Trish demanded with a long suffering sigh.

"Hey! It wasn't actually my fault this time... Mostly..." Trish just stared her down, eyebrow raised disbelievingly. "Well... You know how the navy's such a stickler for regs and traditions right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well after you decided we were going to keep her, me and Judy started spending more time together. If I wasn't on duty she'd be with me." Trish had noticed their growing bond even in the photos. "She even started kipping on my bunk and... Well, what with me being in officer's quarters..."

"They made the dog an officer?" One corner of Nikki's lips quirked up as she nodded.

"Ensign Judy Shepard." There was a beat, her half smile evolving into a full face grin as she deadpanned: "She's got dogtags and everything!"

...

"Then there was the case of whether or not singing 'Hey Jude' at a dog counts as disrespecting an officer." Nikki continued regaling Trish with the nonclassified highlights of her latest tour, as they made their way back from registering Judy at the vets.

"Seriously? Surely there were more important issues for the navy to focus on than that."

"What can I say? There's a lot more down time now I don't have to constantly fix and maintain vehicles. It was a very serious discussion among the ground team over a game of Skyllian Five."

"Alright I'll bite, what was the verdict?"

"Well we decided that it would depend on whether or not the officer in question felt offended."

"And how did you determine that, did you ask her?"

"We tried, but between Cobb waving his baseball around trying to get her to follow the movement and nod, and Vakas trying the same thing with food to try and get her to shake her head, we felt any answer was void due to attempted coercion and decided it depended on whether or not Judy had a sense of humour."

"And how did you decide if she had a sense of humour?"

"Oh that's easy, she was sleeping with me and didn't attempt either suicide or murder, she must have a sense of humour!" 

Trish burst out laughing, before a devious thought occurred to her and she struggled to stifle her chuckles long enough to force the words out.

"Wait... She was  _ sleeping _ with you? They brought this up as evidence and didn't try to put you on a fraternization charge?" 

It was well worth it, Nikki's jaw dropped, face blushing before she released a guffaw of laughter.

"That is brilliant! My new squad suck for not picking up on that. Badger would totally have pounced on the frat card."

...

"Nikki, what's wrong with your dog?" 

She'd be honest, that wasn't the first thing she'd been expecting to hear when she walked through the door with the food shopping.  **_Especially_ ** when she hadn't been able to hide the large, brightly coloured water gun sticking out the top of one of the bags.

"Uh oh, my dog already? I could have sworn she was ours when I left the house."

"And I thought you said she was already trained?"

"She is! Don't tell me you've broken her already?" Shepard tried to tease but a look at her partner's face warned her off that idea. "What's the problem?"

"She won't sit, or come when I call, or listen when I tell her to do something."

"You sure you're using the right words of command?"

"Yes, I've got your list right here." She waved her omni-tool as proof.

"They worked fine on the ship... Why don't you show me?" 

The civilian walked to the other side of the room to get the puppy's attention,

"Judy, sit." Nothing happened.

"Hmm. Maybe make it sound more like an order? Let me try... Ensign, sit!" Judy obeyed immediately and Nikki turned back to her girlfriend with a grin. "See?"

"Seriously!?" 

Nicola's grin instantly evapourated.

"What?"

"That's how everybody's been instructing her on the ship?" 

She nodded nervously, sensing Trish was upset with something she'd done but having no clue what it could be. 

There was a deep sigh. 

"You trained her to respond to her rank not her name?" 

Understanding dawned and Nikki face palmed.

"Sorry, I didn't think... sorry... I'll retrain her, she's still young enough, it should be fine and-" She was cut off mid sentence.

"You could have just  **_told_ ** me you didn't like the name Judy you know. You didn't have to sabotage her training." 

Nikki's eyes widened in panic, completely missing the mischievous look that had appeared in Trish's pale blue orbs.

"I didn't! I swear it wasn't deliberate babe, I promise. I didn't think. I've not had a pet before and, and... and... I sure as hell wouldn't use her rank if I was going to do it on purpose! That's just stupid. I mean, what if she got a promotion?" 

Trish wasn't able to contain her laughter any longer.

"Calm down sweetie, I've already forgiven you." She gave the lieutenant a quick peck on the cheek to prove it and Nikki took the opportunity of their closeness to grab her partner's hand, entwining their fingers and brushing her thumb over the back of the hand apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I will try and retrain her before I go back to the villa, I promise."

"Don't worry about it. It's fine." Trish's attention finally drifted over to the shopping bags, focusing on the bright blue and orange plastic that she didn't remember putting on the list. "Oh God, what've you bought now?" 

Nikki smirked.  **_That_ ** was what she'd been expecting to hear when she walked through the door!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dickin Medal is a real thing, created by the founder of animal welfare charity the PDSA (Maria Dickin) and has so far been awarded to: 34 dogs, 32 pigeons, 4 horses and 1 cat.
> 
> There is an entire book about Judy's exploits and it is both amazing and heart wrenching what that dog went through, Trish's summary only scratches the surface. It is truly impressive and leaves me wondering about the full stories behind many of the other Dickin dogs as her official citation for the medal only reads:
> 
> "For magnificent courage and endurance in Japanese prison camps, which helped to maintain morale among her fellow prisoners and also for saving many lives through her intelligence and watchfulness."


	22. Chapter 22

"Shepard, I need a driver. Want the job?" 

The lieutenant looked up from where she sat soaking up the sun with her fellow survivors of the latest level of N training to see Anderson walking towards her. He'd worded it as a question not an order, but still... she'd be an idiot to turn down the chance to work with an N7 of his calibre.

"Are we talking to the airport, or a different country... Out of system?"  _ Ok, so thinking about it the airport's pretty unlikely since he could just jump in the shuttle with the rest of us when it gets here but still... _

"Out of system... Eagle Nebula. Officially unofficial N mission."

"Sure, why not. Just give me a minute to make a call. Let the missus know I'm not coming home tonight after all." 

He nodded and settled against a nearby wall, pulling out his omni-tool to finalize their transport and equipment. Where they were going it was important not to be carrying Alliance gear. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop but despite her wandering a little way off to the side and keeping her voice low, he couldn't help overhearing her side of the conversation.

"Hey babe, I'm afraid I got some bad news... What?  **_NO!_ ** Of course I passed, thank you very much!" 

Anderson fought to keep the smile off his face at the indignation in the freshly graduated N4's voice as she dialed it back down to the original soft tone.

"I won't be able to make it back tonight, one of the big bosses wants me for a job... It's out of system, that's all I know so far... I don't know. If I had to guess possibly about four to six weeks... Yeah I know, sorry. Look at it this way, you get time to think of some good forfeits for when I get back... Uhh no, it's always been one forfeit per week... no you don't get one a day if it goes over four weeks... alright, alright, fine. Damn I'm going to regret ever agreeing to this aren't I? Just do me a favour and make sure they're all legal this time... Shit I think boss-man can hear me, he's smiling... No Trish, officer's don't just smile for no reason... Yeah yeah, I know, I'm not a proper officer. Look I should go... Yeah I'll be careful, I'm always careful... Hey, that was  **_not_ ** my fault! Okay okay, I promise to be careful. I really gotta go though, love you... Yeah I'll let you know when I know... Love you too, bye."

She finally hung up the call and walked over to Anderson with a look in her eye that said 'don't you dare' but he just couldn't help it.

"Boss-man?"

"Yes Sir?" The audio response was professional and neutral sounding, but if looks could kill then it was a good thing he was already in body armour. He wasn't done yet though.

"Manage to get your permission slip signed Shepard?"

"Aww hell, I am so going to regret this aren't I... Uh, Sir." 

He laughed.

"Come on, let's go. I'll fill you in once we're in transit."

...

"We're supplying weapons to batarians?" The N4 tried her hardest to keep her voice neutral, to hide the stinging accusation behind her words as she looked at the photo of their contact. Judging by Anderson's narrowed eyes she'd failed.

"No, we're supplying weapons to the abolitionists." 

She stayed silent, managing to bite back her almost retort of: 'Looks a lot like a batarian to me.' She wasn't  _ that _ stupid. Unfortunately she wasn't able to stop the defiant spark in her eyes in time.

"Is there something I should know Shepard?" Despite the apparent vagueness of his question it was obvious what the N7 was asking. The recent events at Torfan were on everybody's mind right now, how an Alliance officer dubbed 'The Butcher' by the media had refused to accept the batarian slavers' surrender and ordered them slaughtered. Anderson wouldn't want to risk a repeat on his watch.

She carefully weighed up her options, seriously considering telling him: 'no, no problem, everything's fine. I was just a bit surprised is all'. Or maybe just be flippant: 'Tyra T'Sansis just became the eighth highest scorer in biotiball history despite being three centuries younger than anyone else in the Top Ten'. 

His deep penetrating gaze assured her he'd see right through it though, and she knew he wouldn't appreciate any attempt to deceive. She gave a soft exhale, voice quiet as she admitted: 

"I'm Mindorian Sir."

He hid his reaction much better than her. Either that or she missed it during the brief second of introspection where she wondered if it was good or bad that simply naming her home planet was enough to answer such a question. At least it saved her from having to recount specifics.

"I'm sorry Shepard, but it doesn't change the mission. If you're going to have a problem with the objectives or trouble following orders on the ground I need to know now." 

She shook her head but Anderson looked far from convinced.

"How much do you know about Anhur Shepard?"

"Sir? Not a lot, only what I've heard on the news. Garden world, been engaged in a civil war between slavers and abolitionists since '76." 

He nodded, at least she didn't say batarian slavers.

"It's much more than that. It was founded in 2165, when the batarians still had an embassy on the Citadel. The Alliance and Hegemony were both petitioning for colonization rights in the Traverse and independent colonists from both species put forward the idea of cohabitation. It was a trial idea and in the beginning it worked. It worked right up until the moment a human so called businessman decided to legalise slavery, on paper out of deference to batarian culture but completely ignoring the part where most of the colonists left the hegemony to get away from those traditions. The civil war is being fought by two groups, the Na'hesit are pro slavery and made up of batarian traditionalists and humans. The abolitionists are likewise made up of both humans and batarian colonists. Each side also makes extensive use of mercenaries of all species. Raz is one of the leading abolitionists. On Anhur you can't work out who the good guys and the bad guys are by counting the number of eyes."

"I promise not to shoot anyone unless they're shooting at me or I'm ordered to. Good enough Sir?" 

Anderson's exhale wasn't quite a sigh but it was close.

"Try to keep an open mind Shepard, a lot of people like to say 'they don't have a problem with aliens they've just never met a good one'. Well on Anhur you might just meet them." 

She opened her mouth to protest; she  **_didn't_ ** have a problem with aliens, just slavers, and it wasn't  _ her _ fault most batarians were slavers. 

She thought better of it. Holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"It won't be a problem."

...

Despite her assurances, Shepard couldn't help the way her skin itched as she walked through the camp. She'd never been this close to armed batarians without them trying to kill or enslave her before and she was seriously outnumbered if they tried something. 

She knew the itch was purely psychological. Like how her scalp tickled when Trish talked about her colleague's daughter's school having an outbreak of head lice. Or people feeling better after taking medicine that was actually only a placebo. 

That knowledge still didn't stop her from having to divert brain power into consciously making sure her hand didn't stray too close to her sidearm.

She'd been a little wary of leaving their vehicle unguarded in the compound's main car park, especially considering it contained all the military supplies they'd brought with them, but Anderson hadn't hesitated so she followed his command without complaint. He had done this before after all. 

She did lock everything and set it so her omni-tool would receive an alert if anyone tried tampering with it though, that was just good old-fashioned common sense.

"Goliath, it's good to see you again!" Came the loud call from a human walking towards them in armour so scratched, battered and covered in grime that it was hard to tell what its original colour had been. 

Despite the disheveled appearance Shepard could tell from his body language and the behavior of the people around them that he was a person of some importance in these parts. A batarian moved in perfect sync beside him but even with her limited experience identifying individual batarians she knew it wasn't their contact. 

Snot coloured skin instead of the sandy tone with rusty patches that Raz had had in the photo. Once the duo were close enough the human spoke again, this time in a much lower voice. 

"We have a problem."

"I should have known. People are only ever happy to see me when they've got a problem." Anderson replied, nodding when the human gestured for him to enter a nearby tent. "Aries wait here. Play nice." 

Shepard rolled her eyes but stayed put, turning her back to the tent and sweeping her eyes across the camp, senses on constant high alert for the first hint of trouble. She tried to ignore the snot green batarian that had remained outside with her but couldn't help tensing when he moved closer.

"Relax  _ 'Aries' _ , orange band good, green band is your enemy." 

If he were human she might have shared a smirk at the knowing emphasis he put on her call sign as he pointed at the rag tied round his arm. Instead she simply nodded to show she understood. Race wasn't the only difference among the variety of soldiers in the camp, it seemed no two armours were the same and the flash of orange cloth or paint on the arms were the only proof that they were all gathered to fight for the same cause. 

"Shooting or seeing?" 

She was as surprised by the batarian's continued attempt to strike up a conversation as she was confused by his words.

"Uh, what? Sorry, I don't understand."

"You carzihald." She frowned as her translator fumbled over the word while he pointed at her. "Is it because you used to fighting us or you watch batarians do bad things?"

"Both." Her voice was clipped and brusque. She didn't want this conversation and she sure as hell wasn't giving him any more information, no matter how much Anderson told her to 'play nice'. Something must have slipped through her mask though because the batarian nodded sympathetically before pointing to himself.

"My mother was a slave, am told father was an idiot. Highborn, fell in love, died liberating her. I was born free because of him." He shrugged carelessly. "Slavery's bad."

"On that we can agree." 

He chuckled, picking something out of a bag and eating it before offering the bag out to the human. Shepard eyed it suspiciously.

"Only poisonous to turians," he reassured her. "You're  **_not_ ** turian are you?" 

Shepard chuckled despite herself.

"Not that I know of." She reached in and pulled out the peace offering, it reminded her of a humbug in appearance only with purple and gold stripes. She popped it in her mouth, sucking just once before spitting it out in a hurry. "Urgh! What the hell is that?"

"An acquired taste." The batarian deadpanned as the mixed species assembly of mercenaries and freedom fighters burst out laughing.

"Is that its official name?" Shepard asked, grabbing the offered drinks flask without hesitation and gulping down the cool nectar within without sparing a second thought to whether or not it was poisoned. Before he could respond Anderson's curt voice carried out the tent:

**"Aries get in here!"**

She passed the flask back to snotty, only then realising she didn't know his name, and hurried into what was, from the inside, easily identifiable as a temporary command centre. Maps and computer terminals littered every surface, boxes piled high in the corners but it was empty of people apart from the two men and herself. Despite requesting her presence Anderson seemed to be ignoring her, engaged in a heated though whispered debate.

"You know that's well outside my mission parameters. If the council ever found out-"

"Oh come off it Goliath, the council would flip anyway if they found out your employers were supplying us."

"Don't try threatening me Marcus, it doesn't suit you."

"I know, I'm sorry, but the situation is critical. None of my people could pull off a rescue and he knows everything! If he breaks under interrogation... Hell even if he doesn't... If word gets out morale will plummet. We can have all the weapons in the galaxy, but our cause will fail without people to use them. We can't afford to have the men lose faith." 

Shepard stayed silent, simply absorbing the information both heard and implied from the conversation until Anderson finally lifted his head to look at her and provide an update.

"Mission's compromised. Raz was captured by the Na'hesit. Marcus seems to think the two of us could get him back. Thoughts?" 

She managed to hide her surprise at being asked for her opinion, taking a moment to think through what she knew. The Council had been very clear when it forbade both the Alliance and Hegemony from getting involved in the independent planet's civil war.

Sure there had been rumours of the Alliance secretly supplying the abolitionists with weapons for their cause. Just as there were suspicions that it couldn't be mere coincidence that nearly every Na'hesit soldier was equipped with either a judgement pistol or terminator assault rifle, weapons only manufactured by Batarian State Arms. However there was a wealth of difference between allegations and proof.

"I take it Raz knows who pays us yes?" 

Both men nodded. 

Some people would say that complicated things but it actually made the decision remarkably simple.  _ If there was even the slightest chance the batarian might talk... _

She shrugged with feigned nonchalance.

"Well, I don't know how they worded it to you Goliath, but I'm pretty sure my orders were to give the supplies to Raz. If he thinks he can get out of a deal by getting himself captured he's got another thing coming. I say we drag his scrawny ass back here and make him take the guns."

...

"You sure about this Kerrik? Last chance to back out." Anderson asked the batarian as Shepard careened the VT7 exaggeratedly out of the line of fire of the abolitionist vehicles following them. Their shields kept flickering on and off and they had pre-damaged certain sections of the armour before they set off, being particularly certain to knock out their comms in the most visible way possible.

They finally saw the small Na'hesit convoy they were looking for, making sure to hold direction long enough to be noticed and for the pro-slavery group to be certain they were trying to escape the enemies behind rather than leading them into battle, before turning towards them. 

The Na'hesit took the bait, three AX-9s peeling off to intercept the abolitionist vehicles who quickly turned and fled while Shepard tucked themselves safely into the rear of the convoy. It wasn't long before someone came to check on them.

"Why aren't you responding to the radio, are your ears defective human?"

"My ears! What about your ears? I've been requesting reinforcements for the past half hour." Shepard shouted.

The turian looked at her in disbelief before taking a closer look at the vehicle.

"Well there's your problem, your comms are bust."

"My comms are bust? You've got to be kidding." She followed his outstretched arm to the proof. "You can fucking see that? You can see that and you're asking why I'm not fucking responding? I was wrong, it's not your ears that are the problem, your fucking brain's defective!"

He opened his mouth to protest but she didn't give him a chance. 

"Fuck it, I don't have time for this shit! Just tell me where I got to drop this shit-stain off to collect my bounty." She gestured to Kerrik trussed up like a turkey with Anderson 'guarding' him and the turian's mandibles flared in surprise.

"That's the Eight of Spears! What- How... You can leave him with me. I'll take care of arrangements."

"Sure. You got the 50,000 credits on you?" 

Strangely enough he didn't. They discussed things a little longer before he gave in, telling them to see 'Taliz' when they all got back to base.

"Is she always like this?" The turian asked Anderson as he finally turned to leave. The human simply shrugged.

"No. Right now she's being nice."

"You have my sympathies."

"He don't need your gorram sympathies, he needs a new comm and some armour plating." 

The turian moved on, muttering about 'females' and Shepard resealed the hatch, shutting them off from the outside world. There was silence inside for several long seconds before all three of them dissolved into laughter.

"Damn that was beautiful."

"Best decision I ever made making you spokes-merc for this little jaunt."

"The look on his face!"

...

Someone must have radioed ahead about the Eight of Spears being captured because there was a sizable crowd growing by the time they pulled into the Na'hesit stronghold. 

The dash of green paint on their vehicle and armour, plus arriving amidst an official and expected convoy, was enough to see them waved straight through defenses that even the N7 would have struggled to overcome without incident. They disembarked, Anderson being deliberately rough as he frogmarched Kerrik through the crowd to where Taliz was supposed to be.

The batarian that rose to meet them had bleach-bone coloured skin and didn't even acknowledge the two humans as he scanned his omni-tool over the abolitionist. The tool pinged as it confirmed his identity and a second later a gunshot rung out. 

Anderson didn't even flinch as his prisoner hit the ground but Shepard reacted instinctively, pistol out and aimed at the shooter a split second before her brain reminded her they were supposed to be undercover, were definitely surrounded and outnumbered and she better fix things now!

"You better not be trying to cheat me out my bonus. He was alive when we brought him in and I expect to be paid accordingly." She said flatly, playing the merc card to the full. 

Laughter broke out among the throng, easing the tension back a notch, the batarian tilting its head slightly to the left. Shepard copied the gesture, paying close attention to the direction to make sure she signaled respect rather than insult, that would not go down well with the current audience.

"Of course. Silahra, the credit chits." 

The N4 holstered her sidearm as a female batarian walked forward, it wasn't until she'd accepted the money and the alien turned away that she noticed the telltale scars of a control chip implant on the skull. She forced herself not to visibly react, hoping she was successful. If any of the Na'hesit noticed her disgust they didn't mention it.

"Alright people, show's over. Everyone back to work. Goro, patch this Kra'tash up. I don't want him dying before interrogation." 

Kerrik's bleeding but not quite deceased body was lifted from the ground as the crowd dispersed, Anderson and Shepard vanishing along with them. Infiltration had been a success but now they had to wait until dark before they could launch the rescue and escape parts of their plan. 

At least it would give them time to fix the damage to the VT7.

...

If life was a vid she'd be creeping between shadows as she stealthily made her way through the enemy's lair. That would be far too suspicious if she was spotted however, so instead she trusted in the green band round her arm and the mild notoriety she had gained as the merc who captured the Eight of Spears to see her through and walked confidently through the mostly empty corridors as if she owned them.

She kept her hands free, all weapons safely holstered so as not to look like a threat, but make no mistake she was heavily armed, ready for combat at a moment's notice and with not a single weapon traceable back to the Alliance. 

Scimitar shotgun from Elkoss Combine the Terminus based volus weapons manufacturers, banshee assault rifle from private turian security firm Elanus Risk Control and best of all, the judgement pistol from Batarian State Arms. Say what you like about the batarian bastards, they knew how to make a good gun.

Fortunately they were less adept at electronic locks, linking them all into a single frequency that Anderson had found the open command code for earlier in the day. It was pathetically easy security, presumably relying on the vast merc army outside to keep anyone from getting in. 

Still, not having to crouch down and waste several minutes hacking each door individually on her omni-tool helped with the whole 'looking like she owned the base' thing.

The Villa had ensured she could read batarian well enough to navigate by, but it wasn't much use when the Na'hesit hadn't left any handy directional signs in the corridors. Instead she relied on the intel they'd acquired, until her ears informed her she'd successfully reached the interrogation wing. The screams revealing that, along with security, the Na'hesit had skimped out on sound proofed cells. 

A flanged voice indicated the presence of a turian and Shepard checked the corridor in both directions before pulling out a talon knife and inching closer to the door.

"In case you haven't noticed you're running out of eyes. Let's try again, where did you get the weapons?" 

A hoarse, involuntarily shriek of pain covered the sound of her entry, taking the scene in with a glance. 

Neither the batarian strapped screaming to a chair nor the one 'playing' with him noticed as she snuck behind the turian, sticking the knife between the weak point in his plates for a silent takedown just as her instructors had taught her.

The remaining inhabitants of the room still hadn't noticed her but she knew that would change if she moved towards them. The angle was wrong for her preferred 'instant kill' target but she threw the knife anyway, gaining enough of an advantage to charge across the room unimpeded and plunge her omni-blade through his top left eye. 

Both hostiles down, she double checked the corridor was still clear and shut the door before turning her attention to the prisoner.

Blood and bruises littered his face and body making identification tricky. The top left eye had been disfigured by acid while where each of the right eyes should have been there were now merely empty sockets, leaving just the bottom left functioning, albeit it looking a little bloodshot.

"What's your name?" The solitary working eye fixed on her, any hope of rescue fading as he took in her armour.

"Go to hell Na'hesit scum!"

"I'm not Na'hesit, and it's the only question I want answered." 

He snorted disbelievingly but answered anyway. After all his torturers knew who he was already, it was why they'd made sure he hadn't died yet.

"Raz."

"Can you walk?"

"What happened to just one question?"

"Bloody hell, first Kerrik now you. Nobody told me Anhur was a penal colony for batarian comedians." Before he could reply she triggered her comms to give Anderson an update. "Goliath, package secured but damaged. No sign of horse yet." 

A double click on the comms indicated the N7 had heard but couldn't answer verbally. She started pulling out packets of medi-gel as she analyzed the battered batarian.

"Why couldn't you be a damn turian or asari? I know first aid for them." She grumbled halfheartedly as she rubbed the miracle cure across any open wounds she could see and hoped for the best. She was just releasing him from his bonds when the comms crackled back to life.

"Aries, horse is secured. Do you need help moving package? Over."

"Negative I can manage. Go get the engine running." She handed Raz a knife to hide up his sleeve, mainly because she'd hate to be unarmed in his position but didn't quite trust him with a gun, and silently hoped she wasn't about to be stabbed in the back.

"This is going to hurt." She warned before pulling him to his feet and positioning his arms behind his back although leaving them untied. "Come on. We're just a regular prisoner and escort going for a stroll."

...

"Remind me why we went for the version without a turret gun?" 

Anderson was busy tending to the two batarians in the back as Shepard drove, trying to ride the fine line between maneuvering enough to avoid the worst of the enemy fire and limiting the jostling of their wounded VIP. 

The explosive distraction they had prepared earlier in the day to help with their escape had taken out most of the armoury and a fair chunk of the motor pool, but those vehicles that survived the blast were quickly manned and sent after them. The headstart over their pursuers shrinking minutely each time she had to adjust course.

"Because we're supposed to look like regular mercs." He knew where this was going of course, he probably shouldn't have answered, she already knew the answer and was just being facetious.

"And who's shooting at us?"

"Mercs."

"Right, and what are they shooting at us with?" 

_ Turret guns _ .

"Aries, I picked you for your driving not your lip."

"Oh don't worry Goliath, I'm providing the lip free of charge." 

A wheezy chuckle escaped the batarian and Anderson couldn't help the faint smile on his lips. Usually the only people willing to banter with him under fire were First Contact era N7s, a rather select group whose number grew smaller every year. 

It was rare for them to be teamed up together on a mission and he hadn't realised how much he missed it until he was paired with the youngster. Satisfied he'd done all he could for Raz, he picked up his rifle and headed for the hatch.

...

"Goliath, switch to shotgun, brace for impact and prepare to fire 7 o'clock low." 

The sudden order was so calm, collected and above all sure of itself that he didn't dare question it. Not the fact that there was currently nothing on his seven, or that it was issued by a subordinate. He switched weapons and waited, the adrenaline in his veins making it seem like longer than the handful of seconds it probably actually was.

He noted how they veered slightly to the right then Shepard slammed on the brakes, not quite hard enough to stop completely, yanking the steering wheel to one side, bumping one of their overshooting pursuers off course into a second vehicle and sending them crashing into the canyon that had suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere on the left.

She continued maneuvering and all of a sudden his seven o'clock was no longer empty, lining up perfectly with the narrow slit in the driving compartment of one of the AX-9s. 

He took the shot. Killing the asari driver and wounding the batarian navigator beside her. 

Shepard put her foot down and they were speeding away, back in the direction they'd come from, leaving chaos and confusion in their wake.

It wouldn't last of course. The Na'hesit would regroup and resume their hunt but at least they'd thinned the pack. With luck they'd enter comm range of their abolitionist allies before long and be able to call down reinforcements.

...

For the second time in as many days Shepard found herself driving into a militant camp as part of a convoy, an excited crowd gathering due to news about her passengers. 

She struggled not to flinch under the congratulatory pats on the back. She knew they just wanted to show their thanks, but it was still a swarm of random, unknown batarian hands reaching out at her. She couldn't help that the contact made her uneasy, her fight or flight instinct sending adrenaline coursing through her veins. All she could do was control her reactions and hope nobody noticed.

The horde parted for Marcus who failed to hide his wince at the sight of Raz, bloody but unbowed.

"You look like shit."

"You  **_sound_ ** like shit." Came the battered batarian's reply.

"Come, let's get you a doctor." 

There was a groan. "Haven't I suffered enough?" 

There were chuckles from just about every warrior within hearing distance. Some things truly transcended species. 

With their mission complete the two N operatives turned back to the truck, hoping to slip away unobserved. Their plan failed, the one-eyed batarian being the one to notice their escape attempt.

"Wait! How can we ever repay you?" 

The duo shared a glance, Anderson shrugged, Shepard smiled.

"Just make sure you win."

"We should probably at least give you medals or something."

"Medals, what for? We were never even here." 

Raz tilted his head in the batarian gesture of respect, Kerrik replicating the action beside him, followed by large chunks of the crowd. When something similar had happened in the Na'hesit camp, Shepard had responded how she felt necessary in order to maintain her cover. This time it was genuine as she looked unflinchingly into his single remaining eye and tilted her head left.


	23. Chapter 23

They strolled contentedly through the park, Trish wrapped around Nicola's left arm while her right threw tennis balls for the dog with a plastic launcher. A blue glow caught their attention through the trees, immediately followed by a shriek and moments later panicked shouting.

"Stay there! Don't come any closer. Get down on the ground! Stand still! Don't come any closer or I'll shoot."

"What- What's happening to me?"

"Jesus Nick, that's a child." 

The soldier had gone on alert the moment the light appeared, but at that she pressed the ball thrower into Trish's hand.

"Stay here!" She was running before the words finished leaving her mouth, but Trish ignored her command and was hot on her tail. 

They broke through the tree line together, Nikki sticking her arm out to halt her girlfriend so they could take in the scene and observe what was happening for a moment, rather than just rushing in headlong with no clue.

A young girl stood wreathed in blue light, tears streaming down her face as she stared in panic at her hands. The dark energy was feeding off her emotions and flaring wildly, evoking even more fear and trapping her in an unbreakable cycle. 

The space directly around her was empty as people fled the scene but true to human nature, a fair few had stopped and turned to watch once they reached what they hoped was a safe distance. 

The closest remaining person appeared to be an off duty security guard, his pistol pointed at the perceived threat despite the uncertainty and conflict clear on his face between protecting the rest of the public and having to point his weapon at a kid.

"I want my mummy!" 

Trish's heart went out to the child, she could only imagine how scary it must be for her right now. She thought puberty had been bad but at least you got a bit of warning from adults before it happened and the knowledge that, sooner or later, everyone had to go through it. 

The percentage of human biotics however was still microscopically small. Even if you removed everyone born before First Contact from the statistics. Galactic entertainment programs had gone someway to normalising the  **_concept_ ** of biotics to a degree, but it was still largely seen as something that happened to other species. 

Something strange, dangerous and alien. For every child at school who found it 'cool' there would be another three that would call her freak.

At least the Alliance was starting to get better with their handling of the matter. The Ascension program at Grissom Academy included civilian instructors and was merely highly encouraged for newly manifested biotics, rather than strictly mandatory like BAaT had been a decade ago. 

Trish suddenly realised Nikki was no longer beside her.

"You know, my mummy always used to say 'I want doesn't get', does yours say that?" The marine asked casually as she closed the distance. 

To an outside observer it would have looked like she'd completely ignored the gun being held menacingly behind her, but she had moved deliberately in an attempt to block the security guard's line of sight on the child. More than aware of the fact that increased nerves could lead to itchy trigger fingers and knowingly putting her own life on the line to protect the biotic. 

The girl looked over at her in shock, trying to process her random question but coming out with:

"Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Nikki, who are you?"

"Jasmine."

"Did you come here with your mummy Jasmine?"

"Yes, but I lost her and I can't find her and… and..." Sobs broke through once more, the biotic glow flickering and brightening uncontrollably as her emotions overflowed. "I don't know what's happening."

"Hey, it's alright. Why don't you sit with me and we wait for your mum to find us? Do you like ice cream?" 

The girl nodded.

"What's your favourite flavour?"

"Chocolate."

"I bet you I can get us ice cream without moving from here."

"No you can't."

"I can too!"

"Can not!"

"Ok, I'll prove it...  **Oi, Trish! Get us some chocolate ice cream would you please babe!** "

"That's cheating!"

"And?"

Trish had no idea what her girlfriend was up to and wasn't particularly thrilled about leaving her alone in a potentially dangerous situation, but she wanted to help and knew that below the carefree facade there was a sharp analytical mind that  _ probably _ had a plan. 

Even if she suspected it was most likely a harebrained one.

Plus she knew this was nothing compared to what the soldier faced on a regular basis at work. Although that thought was only half comforting.

With Judy on her heels she set off at a jog for the nearest food vendor, thankful that she used this park often enough to know where they were located. When she got there she realised the tactical error in not leaving the launcher with Nicola and had to tuck it under her arm as she juggled the ice cream cones in her hands and made her way back, Judy foraging ahead to find her other owner.

"Get off dog! What've I told you, only do that to Trish." Came the loud surprised voice as Shepard squirmed under the wet nose that prodded her in the neck, just behind and slightly below her ear, followed by an enthusiastic tongue. The human trailed off into a quiet mutter as she added: "I should never have taught you that..."

"Is she yours?" Jasmine asked as she reached over, the large puppy happily moving over to the source of greatest attention.

"Yep, her name's Ensign."

"Oh no it isn't!" Came a warning voice as Trish caught up with them, pushing her way past the still rather uncertain security guard who had at least pointed his gun down at the ground, even if it wasn't holstered. She carefully transferred the two chocolates over to her girlfriend who in turn handed one to the young biotic as she cheerfully retorted:

"Oh yes it is." 

There was a groan.

"Great, you've turned us into a pantomime."

"You started it." 

Trish opened her mouth to protest then promptly shut it again when she realised what she was about to say. 

"Why don't you sit down babe, you're blocking the sun. This is my new friend Jasmine."

"Trish, and that mutt you're stroking is actually called Judy."

"Judy... Ensign. po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Same difference."

"Not even remotely."

"You're funny." The child laughed, no longer glowing as she sat eating ice cream and stroking the dog, thoroughly distracted from her predicament by their antics.

"It's a gift." Nikki responded glibly.

"More like a curse." Trish amended promptly.

"To-may-to, to-mah-to. " Was the infuriating reply and if they'd been alone Trish may well have smeared ice cream in her partner's face. 

The knowing twinkle in her eyes suggested Nikki had read her mind and that if they'd been alone she'd reach over with her mouth and steal some before she got a chance. 

"Anyway... before someone had to distract us with food we were about to be super awesome detectives!"

"I apologise for bringing you food, it won't happen again."

"But what if I want you to?" It was very almost a whine, although it sounded rather put upon, like she was playing it up for the audience.

"Maybe. If you ask nicely... aaand if you let me join your super awesome detective squad."

"Hmm... I don't know, should we let her?" Nikki asked the biotic who merely shrugged. "Well I suppose we could give you a test, see if you're good enough... Reckon you could hack into the local CCTV?"

"Why? Can't you manage?"

"Course I can, I'm just practicing the art of delegating... Plus you'd be faster than me." The spec ops soldier admitted. 

Trish didn't answer verbally, merely smirking as she activated her omni-tool, it wasn't long before she was scrolling through the city's footage, tracing Jasmine's steps back until she was seen with another woman and then playing it forwards again, following Jasmine's mother to trace down the location and reunite them.


	24. Chapter 24

"Wow that looks awesome even from out here, you have the best ideas." Nikki opined as they turned into the carpark and properly saw the indoor waterpark, different coloured tubes sticking out of the rectangular building at all kinds of weird angles. "It has been far too long since I went swimming."

"You sure you remember how?"

"Oh please, I could swim before I could drive!" It wasn't the most impressive boast compared to say swimming before walking, but it was obviously supposed to be a tailored tease. Especially when the soldier continued with: "If anybody in this car is going to drown it's not going to be me. You sure you're going to be alright in there?"

"Don't worry about me, I had a good swimming teacher." Trish replied feeling generous. She could have kept the banter going longer but was in a hurry to get in there and have fun.

"Uhh, I disagree... not good, great."

"Sure, whatever you say, 'Your Greatness'."

...

Knowing what they had planned for the day they had gotten dressed that morning over the top of their swimsuits. It made changing quicker and Trish was already shoving her stuff in a locker, joking about how slow Nikki was being, when their fellow swimmers left the changing rooms. 

The familiar aroma of public pools trickled through while the door was open and Nicola suddenly cut off half way through her sentence. Trish turned to find her standing frozen and tense, eyes gazing unseeingly into the distance. She had a pretty good guess what was happening but no idea why. 

_ Why here? Why now? _ She fought to quell the rising panic, that wouldn't help anybody, she just had to stay calm and do what she could to help. However there was a world of difference between knowing the theory of what to do in a hypothetical situation and putting it into practice when reality reared its ugly head.

"Nikki, are you alright? Can you hear me?" She had to override the instinct to reach out and touch her. She knew her girlfriend would never hurt her, but she was less sure if Nikki would actually realise it was her. Who knew what the soldier thought she was experiencing right now, her brain might translate her contact into that of an enemy. 

"Nick? I don't know if you can hear me sweetie, or what you're seeing, but we're at the swimming pool. It's Trish, I'm here and we're at the pool Nick."

She couldn't think of anything else to say so she just kept repeating the same information over and over again with no idea if it was helping or not, but figuring it couldn't make things any worse. 

At least, she hoped not. 

Just as suddenly as she disassociated Nikki suddenly returned. 

It wasn't like waking up from anesthetic though, she didn't just resume talking right where she cut off. 

Instead her eyes returned to clarity, darting round before focusing on Trish. Her body breaking into a cold sweat.

"You ok?" 

There was a nod even though her fingers were opening and clenching repeatedly with nervous energy. 

"You just had a flashback didn't you?" 

It was more of a statement than a question, there wasn't really any room for doubt, but there was still a second of hesitation as if Nikki was considering denying it before she gave another terse nod.

"Yeah... Shit, I thought I was past this." 

Trish had known they weren't, even though it had been so long since Nikki last had a nightmare. The soldier's therapist had made it clear to both of them that there was no cure for PTSD, only management techniques. 

She wasn't sure if that particular dose of reality would be welcome right now though and she certainly wasn't going to lie and offer false hope so she decided to ignore the topic completely and focus on something more useful.

"Do you know what triggered it?" 

Nikki shook her head.

"No. I...  _ Fuck _ ... I don't want to lose my job Trish. I've come too far to lose my job to this bullshit." 

She didn't even want to think about what it meant that THAT was Nikki's first concern.

"Don't worry about that right now. We just need to work out what the trigger was and then-"

"I DON'T **KNOW!** " The flash of anger came out of nowhere, Trish flinching slightly as her partner lashed out and punched one of the metal gym lockers in frustration before slumping down on the bench. 

"I... Sorry... I just- I was talking to you and then I was on Akuze. There wasn't any warning. I was just there with the stench and the..." She looked up suddenly, "Smell, I thought I smelled acid."

"The chlorine?" Trish asked, her brain racing as she sat down cautiously on the bench opposite.

"I don't know... maybe... It's not quite the same smell but yeah, close enough I guess." She trailed off into silence and Trish didn't push her any further, giving her time and space but still keeping a close eye on her to make sure she didn't drift off again. 

Eventually she had to intrude though, they were in a public place after all, they didn't have unlimited time alone.

"What do you want to do now?" 

There was a shrug.

"I... I want to pretend this didn't just happen... I want to hide in a dark room where nothing can get me. I want to find the part of my brain that's so damn stupid and useless and cut it out my head and throw it away..." 

Trish's concern multiplied at that one and she looked like she was going to interrupt, but Nikki kept speaking before she had a chance. 

"I want to go in there and have a go on that awesome water slide. I want to punch the water repeatedly until it leaves me alone. I..." She finally trailed off, eyes flitting quickly between the corners of the room. Though whether it was to check for danger or reassure herself of her surroundings Trish wasn't entirely sure.

"Ok... Which do you want to do first?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to talk to Phil?"

"Not really."

"Nikki..."

"I know, I won't hide it. I've got a catchup session this week anyway. I just... Not right now. Please?"

"Ok..." She nodded her acceptance, they sat silent for a long time before Shepard randomly grumbled:

"I can't believe you're on first name terms with my shrink." 

Trish felt the corner of her lip twitch up at that first real sign of her Nikki.

"I can't believe you're not. Wait, wait, I totally believe you're not." 

It was Shepard's turn to smile although it quickly faded, her voice soft and insecure.

"You know... you can start running any time now."

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want to get rid of me." Trish stated and there was a flash of gratitude in Nikki's eyes before it faded to regret.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm so rubbish, that I've got to ruin everything and..."

"Shh sweetie, you've not got anything to be sorry about. If anything it's my fault, I chose to come here, I didn't think about-"

"No, you couldn't know... Hell, I didn't even fucking know... Stupid fucking brain, why couldn't my trigger be boiling cabbage or something? I  _ like _ swimming! Why'd it have to be something I like?"

"I don't know. Maybe the universe hates you." Trish made damn sure her voice was obviously teasing on that one. Last thing she wanted was to accidentally make Nikki think the world was out to get her. "Or maybe it's making sure you have the motivation to seek help and get it sorted."

"What if there isn't anything that can help?"

"Then we go to the seaside to swim, or find ourselves a lake. We'll work something out. Just talk to Phil first see what he suggests." 

Nikki nodded, too drained to argue, before suddenly glancing up with her brow furrowed in confusion.

"How has nobody else come in yet? We've been here ages. We should probably go."

"We should also probably get dressed."

"Ok, I'm definitely ill, I can't think of a joke." 

Trish smiled anyway as she stood to get her clothes, a gentle touch on her wrist halting her, causing her to stare down into deep brown eyes. 

"I haven't said thank you yet have I?"

"No, but you don't need to. Besides, you said sorry lots, it evens out."

"Still, thank you. I know... I know you didn't sign up for this when we started out."

"No I didn't, but like I said: you're not getting rid of me that easily."


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter deals with some dark and heavy subject matters. There's nothing graphic, all the nasty stuff happens off screen, but the characters have to deal with the aftermath and it is something of an emotional rollercoaster. 
> 
> I don't think it needs to have a trigger warning, but at the same time I am aware that I have been lucky in my life so far and don't have any triggers of my own with which to judge. 
> 
> As previously stated, events don't happen on screen, nor are they described, they are merely discussed as having happened and then reacted to. While I believe the chances of being triggered are low, it is certainly emotionally draining.
> 
> For those who feel able, I recommend reading the chapter 'blind' as it were. It is certainly more impactful when events unfurl without warning. However for those who have non war based triggers, I will include a note at the end listing the 'dark topics' included. You can make your own mind up whether you'd rather be pre-warned.

"I'll put in for emergency leave, I can-"

"Nikki, no!"

"But-"

"Don't you dare! You've only got another two weeks until you graduate, don't throw it all away because of this. Besides, even if you left right now it would still take a full week before you got home."

"One week's better than three. I should be there for you Trish-"

"Damn it, this is exactly what I didn't want to happen! I shouldn't have told you Nick, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have distracted you, I don't want you-..."

"Don't want what? Me?"

"Shit, no Nick. That's not what I mean sweetheart! If I had a magic button that teleported you here in a minute flat I'd be spamming it so hard right now!"

"Sorry that was... What do you need me to do?"

"Just stay on the line?" 

The soldier nodded even though the call was audio only.

"Ok, I can manage that..." Shepard hesitated, this conversation really would be better in person rather than over the phone.  _ Or never _ . Never needing it would certainly be her preferred choice but that was no longer an option. "Feel free to tell me to go to hell if you don't want to talk about this right now but... what do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know, I just... I don't know..."

"Way I see it we only got three choices. You can give birth and then put it up for adoption, keep it, or have an abortion."

"What would you do?"

"I'm sorry babe, I really wish I could help but you've got to make this decision yourself. You're the one who's got to live with it. I don't want to influence you and then you regret your decision, then you end up blaming and resenting me and... Whatever you decide, I'll support you 100%"

"We've never even discussed having children..."

"Well, I wouldn't say I was exactly opposed to the idea of having them one day. Ok, so maybe 'one day' is a little closer than I thought, but I can adapt. If that's what you want?"

"And it wouldn't bother you that it's not yours, that it... that it..." 

Nikki yearned to make a joke. Something along the lines of: 'babe, I've been trying to get you pregnant for years', or 'I don't know how to tell you this but I've not got the right parts'. 

Such flippancy had long ago ingrained itself as part of her personal defense mechanism and coping strategies, but she knew it wasn't the right response to help her partner so she bit back on the urge.

"Trish, listen to me! The only thing it would ever be is  **_your_ ** kid. I can love your kid no problem. But what I don't want is for every time you look at it for you to be reminded of that horror, that bastard, that..." She trailed off as she felt the impotent rage rise inside her and she tried to quell it. 

All her training, everything she'd done and all the crap she'd suffered, she liked to tell people it was to protect humanity's interests and make the galaxy a safer place. That was the official line after all and it stopped them bothering her for a deeper answer. 

There was also the fact she was good at it and happened to enjoy it, among many other reasons, but when days were bad it helped make all her sacrifices feel worthwhile. Now she wondered what the hell the point was if she couldn't even protect the woman she loved. 

To think that someone could, that someone had... she couldn't even  **_think_ ** the R-word right now without wanting to commit grievous bodily harm.

"You still there Nick?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Sorry, I just feel so useless on the other side of the galaxy. You alright though?" She winced as soon as the words left her mouth.  _ Of course she's not, talk about a stupid question you fucking klutz. _

"I wouldn't go as far as alright, I feel like shit. I'm coping though. Mum's here, she's been great. I just keep thinking if I... if only..."

"Hey, enough of that. This was  **_not_ ** your fault."

"I know, I really do, but I can't help it. I just keep replaying it in my head, over and over." 

Nicola knew what that felt like, being trapped in your own personal hell of memory and regret, but despite her experiences she couldn't think of anything to say or do right now to make it better.

"You sure you don't want me to come back?"

"I'm sure."

"Ok. If you change your mind you let me know. I'm serious, I'll drop everything if you need me."

"I know you would. Can we... Can we talk about something else please? I don't want to think about this right now."

"Sure..." Her head was swirling, still trying to process the news, but she desperately tried to think of a lighter topic to provide Trish with a break and distraction. Aware that her partner had probably thought of nothing else since the incident. "... Do you think Judy would like a stuffed pyjak?"

"Probably. Why have you seen one somewhere?"

"Yeah loads, I just need to find a good taxidermist."

"NIKKI!"

...

"Trish, you still awake?" Shepard asked quietly after several long minutes of story telling had passed by without interruption. Shallow breathing was the only sound heard in reply. "...Ok, if you don't say anything I'm going to go... I love you babe, no matter what. Take care of yourself alright? Night..." 

The soldier disconnected from the call and gave a long, low exhale. She pulled herself to her feet but had to take a moment, leaning against the table to collect herself.

" **FUCK!** " Her fist snuck out, thumping the surface as she finally gave voice to the tumultuous emotions that she'd kept bottled up inside her for the last two hours in order to be strong for Trish. 

She felt an almost overpowering urge to sweep her arm across the desk and knock everything over. To break something. To let loose her frustrations on some inanimate object that couldn't feel pain and utterly destroy it. 

Unfortunately the only item present was the emergency contact comm set, and even in her current state she was rational enough to know that was a bad idea. If she trashed that then Trish wouldn't be able to get hold of her if she changed her mind. 

She tugged a hand through her hair, focusing on her breathing.

She certainly wasn't the first soldier to find out their partner was pregnant while on deployment and she wouldn't be the last. 

At least she got to skip a few of the usual uncertainties that plagued her colleagues when they found out. She knew with a hundred percent certainty that she wasn't the father and was just as certain that Trish hadn't cheated on her. She nearly gave in to maniacal laughter at the incongruity that both those statements could be true at the same time.

Maybe if the call had been about some asari at work getting pregnant and claiming it was Trish's, or that she'd been diagnosed with something nasty and Nick should get herself checked out just in case, then maybe she'd entertain the notion of doubt, but this? 

No way. 

Not even if she'd been completely legless was there ever any chance of Trish giving consent to a human male. 

Not that she had been. Merely walking home alone after staying late at work. Something she'd done a hundred times before without any problem.

One thing Nikki couldn't help wonder about though was whether or not her partner would even have told her if not for the pregnancy. After all it had happened weeks ago and she was only finding out about it now. 

The explanation that Trish didn't want to distract her was plausible enough. N6 training was dangerous and difficult enough to pass even if you were fully focused, but then what? Would Trish have told her as soon as she got home or waited? Not wanting to destroy the triumphant mood. What if she kept waiting and waiting for a suitable moment to bring it up and it never arrived? How long would it have remained secret?

Nikki suddenly realised she wasn't even close to getting her head on straight and mentally bitch-slapped herself before striding out the communications tent, only to find Anderson waiting outside. She grudgingly accepted that she'd rather it was him there than one of the other instructors but she really wasn't in the mood for condolences or platitudes. 

Fortunately he must have read her mind, skipping such trite questions as 'are you alright?' or 'what happened?' in favour of the standard emergency contact protocol during villa training:

"Do you want to go home?"

She shook her head with a slight scoff. 

"Want? Yes. Gonna? No." 

He nodded briskly before clapping her on the shoulder.

"You need anything just ask. Whether it's a sparring partner, some range time or just a good old fashioned chat..." He paused a second, then when she didn't say anything he decided to add: "Though if you need a shoulder to cry on I may have to delegate." 

It did the trick, a small snort breaking out before she could stop it and a wry smile gracing her lips.

"Thanks Sir, appreciate it."

...

Trish still worried whether or not she'd made the right choice. The decision plagued her every day. It was too late to change her mind now though. 

The soft, gentle and above all completely unconscious smile that appeared on Nikki's face every time her fingers brushed over the bump (which was often) or eyes flicked over to check on her (which was even more often) was enough to quell most of those concerns, but it still couldn't completely ease her nerves. 

She was about to become a single mum. Oh sure, she wasn't actually single... but she might as well be.

She had no doubt Nikki would make a great parent when she was home, but that wasn't all that often, she was too busy off being a hero. Trish had little doubt her girlfriend would resign if she asked her to, but she didn't want to ask. She was also pretty certain Nick would suggest it herself if Trish brought up her concerns. 

It was a nice thought but Trish knew her marine too well, she'd miss it. Maybe not straight away, but at some point she'd regret it if she left. 

It was bad enough that her own life had been turned upside down because of that bastard, she wouldn't let it impact on Nikki anymore than she had to. 

It would all work out. It had to.

Her own father had always been away on deployment and her mother had managed to raise her just fine. It just meant she appreciated the time with him all the more. 

_And then he died_. 

She quickly banished that thought. It was alright to be nervous about this, everybody got nervous during a pregnancy, even normal pregnancies that weren't as a result of-

"So... I'm not quite up to speed on the whole parenting thing. Is there a specific time we're supposed to have the talk?" 

Trish smiled at the intrusion into her thoughts. Nick always seemed to sense when she was drifting into darker territory and pulled her back before she could get too lost in there.

"Which talk?"

"You know... names and stuff."

"Why, you got any ideas?"

"Not really... We could just call him 'kid' for the first three years, let him pick his own name, or 'you'. 'You' would work."

"Pretty sure they make us choose something for the birth certificate." She paused, not entirely sure how Nikki would react to her next suggestion. "I was thinking maybe Thomas?" 

A swirl of emotion flitted over the soldier's face, too fast for even Trish to decipher before it settled into a small, sadness tinged smile.

"What about your dad? He could be Frederick Thomas... Stewart."

"Oh no! I don't think so Shepard!" 

The sudden outburst clearly threw the marine. Despite being used to nearly everybody else she knew calling her by her surname, her girlfriend only used it when she was in trouble or wanted something done right this instant. She glanced down at the bed, fiddling awkwardly with the duvet cover before meekly looking back up.

"Umm, so err... I'm not sure if you're mad at me or want the kid to have my surname?" 

Trish's annoyance evapourated immediately, replaced by a smile. That was another conversation they'd never had before. A subject they should probably discuss sometime. First however she needed to make something abundantly clear.

"I'm sorry Nick, I didn't mean to shout at you... Can we blame it on hormones? It doesn't matter which surname we use, the initials will be the same. I don't really want my son to have the initials F.T.S."

"Why not?"

"Really Nikki? You're the big marine, I'm surprised you're not laughing already. 'Fuck That Shit'?" 

The soldier's lips curled into a grin then.

"Well, maybe if you're quick you'll be able to marry a Williams or a Watson before he's born. Then he'll be 'For The Win'. I know a Wachowski you might like."

"I've got no problem with having an S at the end... We don't have to go with Thomas if you don't want to."

"Well we're not having Bill or Ben, I have enough B.S in my life. What do you think kid?" Nikki slid down so her face was level with Trish's stomach, placing her hands on the bump along with a tender kiss. "Do you want to be Thomas Frederick?" 

Her eyes flicked back up to Trish's face and a moment later Trish felt a particularly heavy kick. Before she could say anything, Nikki's face lit up with the widest grin she'd ever seen.

"I felt that... I actually felt that." Her voice was low and full of awe as she knelt on the floor looking up, eyes wide with amazement. "Hey there little guy, can you do that again?" She laughed, completely enthralled as she moved her hands around, almost like a game of pat-a-cake, or a boxing coach working the focus mitts. 

Trish smiled at the sight until she had to groan at the feeling.

"Err, Nick? Any chance you could wait until our son is on the outside before you teach him to fight?" 

A guilty look crossed the marine's face as she glanced up.

"Sorry." Her attention was quickly drawn away again however, pressing yet another kiss to the bump. "You hear that Thomas? You got to stop now, let mummy get some rest... No no no no, that question didn't need answering, stop kicking... Hey when you get out of there we're gonna have to work on the whole doing what you're told thing... Look, please just stop before mummy kicks my ass." 

Trish couldn't help but laugh at the panic on Nicola's face as the small life inside her insisted on making its presence known.

...

"I don't want to go back to work." The soldier grumbled, flopping face first onto the bed despite having already taken the dog for a run, bringing Trish breakfast in bed, showering and getting dressed into her uniform. Trish smiled.

" 'Fraid you got to sweetie... Unless you want me to shoot you? Then you can get a medical discharge and I get to keep you here as my personal slave."

"But then you'd be a slaver and it would be my job to put you down."

"No it wouldn't, you'd already be discharged, keep up slowpoke." Trish wished they could have had this little bout of silliness yesterday when they had plenty of time to keep it going, rather than now when there was a risk of Nikki missing her shuttle. She didn't want that. Well... mostly... partly... rationally with a tiny little bit at the back of her mind. 

The larger part of her brain would have been quite happy to kidnap Nikki and keep her here beside her forever. She doubted the spec ops soldier would put up much of a fight. Especially with the way she'd managed to maneuver herself closer, hand ending up in its now almost default position on Trish's belly. Her voice was low as she murmured:

"I can hardly believe that the next time I see you Thomas is going to be on the outside." 

It did seem a little surreal, Trish silently agreed, as she entwined their hands. 

"Promise you'll send me pics?"

"Of course! I'm almost insulted you felt the need to ask. I'm gonna send so many baby Thomas pictures that your ship's comm system will crash." 

Nikki smirked in response.

"Not just him, you too. I want to see both of you."

"You realise I'm going to look awful right?"

"Lies, you'll look beautiful."

"Nobody looks good during labor, it's messy and ugly and horrible."

"Nonsense. I've seen you look beautifully tired, beautifully stressed and beautifully enraged. No matter what, you're always beautiful to me." Love and admiration shone out of blue and brown eyes alike, even as Trish tried to refute her partner's claims:

"Hmm, maybe I should give the medical corps a call, I think there might be something wrong with your eyesight. You have seen me in the mornings right?"

"Mmhmm, beautiful mess."

...

There wasn't a power in the universe that could have stopped Shepard when she heard the news. Not even Trish telling her not to come would have worked this time. 

Not that Trish had called. 

That had been the first warning that something was wrong. When she'd answered the call and heard Molly's voice when it was still far, far too early to be good news. 

They'd been on shore leave on some backwater colony called Ferris Fields when she found out. She knew what she should have done; filled out a form for emergency leave and submitted it to her CO for approval. That would have taken time though and there was a cargo ship bound for Earth due to depart in less than two hours. 

She barely gave it a second thought, slipping onboard with ease and stowing away without the crew being any the wiser. After all, her villa skills had to come in handy for something.

First thing she did was disable the locator on her omni-tool so she couldn't be traced, then she spent the next several days of transit flipping between denial and conducting scientific experiments into whether or not it was possible to will something into being. 

Not the universe rewinding and fixing the mess, she wasn't naive enough to think she could do that, no matter how hard she wished it. But something small like the ship moving faster? Surely she had enough will power to force that one through? 

FTL speeds felt far too slow right now. Her impatience continued upon making planetfall. Instead of waiting around for a plane, she got hold of a car and drove, stopping for traffic lights and pretty much nothing else until she reached home.

...

It hurt more than thresher acid. 

A tiny part of her brain tried to tell her that if a maw popped up right now and spat on her she might rethink that statement, but it was immaterial. 

Right here, right now, it fucking hurt. 

Sure she didn't think she was going to die like she had with the worm, but that just meant there wasn't a foreseeable end to the pain in the near future. She hadn't felt heartache like this since those last few days on Mindoir. 

Still, she kept her feelings hidden. Merely tightening the hug as Trish broke down in her arms. 

She couldn't think of any words of comfort as the grief poured freely down her partner's face. No reply to the cries of anguish, not until they finally resolved themselves into a faint mantra of: 'I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry'.

"Shhh, hey, this isn't your fault babe. None of this is your fault. I'm just glad you're ok." 

It was like a switch was flipped in the civilian, the marine left helpless against the sudden rage, fists pummeling weakly against her chest.

"That's all you care about? That I'm ok? What about Thomas? I bet you're glad he's dead. This must make things easier, it must be so fucking great for you. You never wanted him, he wasn't yours. Well he was my son!"

"Trish, that's not what-" She didn't stand a chance against the flood of raw emotion. She could have stopped the ineffective assault easily enough, but she barely even felt it. Rooted to the spot in shock, even as her partner turned towards the stairs with a final cry of:

"Just leave me alone!" 

Nikki finally broke from her trance, taking the steps two at a time as she chased after her, reaching the bedroom door just in time to see the lock flick to red.

" _ Seriously!? _ You know I can hack doors as well, right?"

"Go away Nikki."

She nearly ignored her, reaching for the omni-tool on her wrist until she heard a final word whispered right on the edge of hearing: "Please..." 

Shepard felt her heart ache all over again at that tiny sound, warring with herself whether or not to obey. 

She finally slumped to the ground, back to the wall, angrily brushing away the moisture that dared to gather at the bottom of her eyes seeking an escape. 

Her brain whirred, developing and dismissing potential courses of action until she felt a nudge on the back of her hand, glancing down to find Judy watching her with doleful eyes. She reached down automatically to stroke the canine behind the ears. Unable to withhold a slight smile as she caught a soft spot and Judy's leg twitched uncontrollably.

"Alright, come on pup. Let's go for a walk."

...

'Walk' had quickly turned into jog, had turned into attempting to escape life's problems by outrunning them and leaving them all behind. 

Running usually helped clear her thoughts, but there was still too much whirling around inside her head. She tried focusing on her breathing and her stride. On each foot striking the ground, pace quickening as she did so until Judy was struggling to keep up.

A chime on her omni-tool had her pulling to a halt. 

A quick glance was enough to reveal it wasn't who she so desperately wanted it to be.

[Shepard, I heard.  For what little it's worth I'm sorry.  Anybody asks I scooped you up for a classified op in the Traverse, already informed your CO. I'll let you know when I'm back in Alliance space. Don't let me regret it. Anderson] 

Nikki was stunned. Sure he'd taken her out on a few more missions since Anhur, and they always had each other's backs in the field, but she'd never expected anything like this. He was an Alliance legend, one of the first villa graduates, an N7 for almost as long as she'd been alive. It didn't make sense for him to risk his career for her. 

It was humbling and a little scary. Although a far nicer wake up call to reality than MPs turning up at the house to drag her away. She didn't have a clue how to answer though. She gave her panting companion a quick head rub before turning round. 

It was something to think about on the way home.

...

"Trish, can we please just talk?" The bedroom door was still locked when she got back. Shepard did a quick scan for life signs to make sure her partner hadn't snuck out a window or something, she didn't want to waste her breath talking to an empty room. 

"Come on babe, I know you're in there... At least come get something to eat." She was beginning to get a better perspective on the hell she'd dragged the civilian through after Akuze, but just because she could see the similarities in behaviour didn't mean she appreciated them.

She did remember how she just wanted to be left alone though. How she'd resented what at the time had felt like Trish's continuous pointless intrusions. 

With a sigh she left to shower, coming back again an hour later with a tray laden with a mixture of old favourite foods and new cravings. She didn't even try to speak this time, merely placing her offering on the floor, taking a picture and turning to leave as she sent the photo to Trish's omni-tool with a message:

[I'll be downstairs if you need me. Please eat something]

...

"Nikki?" 

The soldier looked up from her spot on the couch, curled up with the dog watching she-didn't-even-know-what on the tele. Trish stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around her stomach. 

At some point night had fallen and the flickering TV was the only light in the dark room, Shepard turned her attention back to the screen. 

"I'm sorry, I never should have said that. I... Can you ever forgive me?" 

Nicola nodded but said nothing.

"Please don't give me the silent treatment. I know I deserve it but can you just shout at me if you're mad?" 

A small part of her briefly considered letting her partner stew, paying her back for the treatment of the last few hours. Guilt followed immediately after that thought and she sighed, speaking in a low voice:

"I forgive you... and I understand, I really do. I don't blame you for anything. Can't just pretend like it didn't hurt though." She finally looked back at her, and the civilian could see the same pain in those bone dry, deep brown eyes as was contained in her own tear stained face. "I know Thomas wasn't mine Trish, no part of me in him or him in me but... damn it if I wasn't going to raise him like he was. I was all in on this one. There is  _ nothing _ I wouldn't have done for him."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Me too." Nikki raised her arm and Trish took the silent invitation, joining her on the couch and snuggling in close, clinging on tight as they sought comfort in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, major spoiler alert and potential (though hopefully not) trigger warnings for the chapter are as follows: discussions around and reactions to (no descriptions of) sexual assault, unplanned pregnancy and miscarriage. 
> 
> If you were triggered by any of it please let me know and I will make the opening notes warning stronger.


	26. Chapter 26

"Trish wants to plant one of those memorial trees."

"What do you think about it?" Dr Phil Holstein asked and wasn't at all surprised when the woman in front of him shrugged. Shepard talked a lot more openly with him now then when they first met but if she truly decided she didn't want to answer a question there wasn't much he could do to make her. 

That was the problem with spec ops soldiers, SERE training not only made them able to withstand physical torture but also taught them to recognise and ignore the more subtle manipulation techniques that his profession often used to make people want to open up. In fact she was more likely to clam up completely if she spotted them in play.

There was even a rumour that the later villa graduates had courses with former asari commandos, learning to put up effective mental defenses in case anyone ever forced a meld to try and steal intel. Non-consensual melds were one of the greatest violations of asari law, but considering the types of people N-forces went up against it made sense for their soldiers to be prepared for it in case of capture.

"Well?" He prodded.

"If Trish thinks it'll help her then we do it. Simple as that."

"You're concerned it won't help." It was definitely spoken as a statement rather than a question.

"I didn't say that!" She hadn't had to. Phil gave her a pointed look but said nothing and she sighed as she glanced down to her hands. "I don't know. I guess... I guess I'm worried she'll fixate on the tree instead of moving on."

"That's always a possibility," he agreed, "but a slim one. Most of the time these memorials help people find closure, a way to say goodbye. It might even help you too. All you talk about is how Trish has been affected by this, what Trish wants, but how do you feel? What do you want?"

"What I want doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"Yeah well... what I want is impossible... Or illegal..." Nikki trailed off and they sat in silence for a while, the soldier desperately trying not to fidget under that damn shrink gaze of his. "I know what you're trying to do doc and you know it pisses me off."

"I get paid the same regardless of whether or not we talk, but I can't help if you don't open up."

"Fine. Thomas was like a light, the one good thing to come from a shitty situation. With him gone, all we got left is the darkness. The pain. An endless supply of might have beens. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I just want the truth, what do you want?" 

Shepard glared before making a helpless gesture with her hands.

"I want to rewind time. Fix everything. Make it so Trish doesn't have to go through this pain. Like I said, impossible... I'm not even sure how far back I'd go. I want the kid back, to raise him, have a family again. Then other days I wish he'd never existed in the first place."

"That's an understandable response. And the illegal part? Last I heard there weren't any actual laws against time travel." Phil already had a pretty good idea of the answer but still needed it to be said out loud.

"I want to find the bastard responsible for all this and rip him limb from limb for what he did to Trish. I get so pissed whenever I think about it, never wanted to kill someone so bad before."

"And do you think Trish would want that? For you to kill for her?" 

There was an involuntary snort.

"You forgetting something doc? Trish ain't stupid, she knows what I do for a living."

"There's a difference between doing your job and vigilantism."

"I know. I didn't say I  _ liked _ feeling this way. Just giving you your facts. Hell, it's probably a good thing I don't know who did it. I mean... I don't want him to get away with this... I want him caught before he does it again to someone else but, right now? The wound's still too raw... I'm not sure I trust myself not to do something I'd regret if I had that information... All in all, I think I'm better off focusing on Trish's wants and needs at the moment." 

Phil nodded, he would have to keep an eye on this, make sure she didn't bottle it up and let it fester, but it was a good first airing and he could tell from her body language that he wouldn't get anymore on that topic today.

"And on that note, how are you two getting along on the intimacy front?"

"We're still in the trial and error phase, working out what's safe and what's not. She wants to, I want to, but you don't always get what you want."

...

**"Get off me you bastard!"**

Nikki immediately stopped everything she was doing and backed away, giving her partner space.

"Trish babe, it's me. It's Nikki." 

The older woman was shivering and Nikki wanted to gather her up in her arms and hug her tight until everything was better. She knew that was the worst thing she could possibly do right now though. Trish wouldn't feel protected but trapped, so she kept her distance.

"Nikki?"

"I'm here. Do you want me to initiate Op Bubbles?" 

The smile that had accompanied the name when they first came up with the response plan was missing, but Trish nodded and Nick reached carefully over into the bedside cabinet and pulled out a scented candle, making sure it was the right flavour before lighting it and padding quietly out to the bathroom. 

She started running water for the bath before hunting down more of the same candles and setting them up around the room, adding a relaxing bubble bath to the water. She dipped a hand in to check the temperature before turning the taps off and heading back out to get Trish.

"It's ready for you." She held out a hand, offering but not demanding her partner to take it and refusing to take offense when Trish ignored it, pulling herself to her feet alone. "Do you want me to send Jude in?"

"No." Trish shook her head but then hesitated, "-do you want to come in?"

"As long as you want me to, sure. Just tell me what you need."

...

"Sorry." It was the first time Trish had spoken since she'd submerged herself underneath the water, resurfacing to engage in her little ritualized washing away of bad memories. 

Nikki could appreciate the symbolism but knew if she tried something like this after one of her flashbacks it would just piss her off and put her even more on edge. Everybody was different however and what mattered was that somehow this seemed to help Trish relax and ground herself.

"It's alright. At least we know not to try that one again."

"I'm sorry." 

Nick knew her partner was about to trap herself in a cycle of guilt and despair. In the past she would have simply said 'you're forgiven' and given her a kiss to prove it, but she was highly aware of the fact Trish still hadn't touched her since they entered the bathroom. She wanted to make sure Trish was the first to reinitiate contact in case she inadvertently triggered her again. 

Still, she had to do  _ something _ to help break the cycle.

"Well, so long as we're apologising for things then I should probably mention... I ate that chocolate cake in the fridge."

"You didn't? That was supposed to be your birthday cake!" 

Out of sight, behind Trish's shoulder, Nikki smiled to herself as her partner took the bait.

"I thought you said you were gonna bake it yourself this year?"

"I did, that was it! It took me months to source all of the ingredients!"

"Oh... Well it looked so professional I assumed you must have bought it." 

There was an exasperated groan from the civilian. 

"Are you angry at me babe?"

"Yes! Out of all the edible things in this house, why did you have to eat that?"

"I was hungry... and it was calling to me. Just sat there taking up space, looking all tempting like."

"Did you at least enjoy it?"

"Enjoy what?"

"The cake."

"I don't know, I haven't had any yet."

"But you just said-" Trish cut off mid sentence as she turned in the tub and caught sight of her marine's teasing face.

"April's fools." 

Lips twitched at the corners as annoyance and amusement fought for dominance in those pale blue eyes, but there was no more sign of the haunted darkness within and that's all Nikki cared about right now. Anything else was a bonus.

"You're a couple of days late for that."

"It's still April."

"You  _ know _ that's not how it works." 

A shrug and a smirk were the only response, but concern suddenly entered Trish's features as she noticed the goosebumps on her still naked partner's body as she knelt on the floor outside the tub. 

"You must be freezing!" She reached a hand towards Nikki's arm to test her theory and while the soldier had no intention of shying away from the touch, she didn't want to deal with another wave of guilt either.

"What, this? This is nothing. I remember one time, in N training, we had to run naked across Siberia."

"Liar."

"What me, lie? When have I ever lied to you?"

"Uh, the cake."

"Wait, the cake is a lie?"

"Bosh'tet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nikki questioned with a chuckle. 

"It... I don't actually know. It's a quarian curse word, but I don't know the exact translation. It's aimed at people or things a lot though. I just liked the sound of it."

"Hmm, Bosh'tet. It  **_is_ ** a good word. When'd you meet a quarian?"

"I know what you're doing you know."

"Really? What's that?" 

Trish shook her head, refusing to answer, knowing Nikki would have some smart-ass comeback ready to deny her accusation with, instead she simply reached over and entwined both their hands.

"Thank you... for being you." 

Nikki gave a reassuring squeeze.

"You're welcome. Now, about this quarian... you seem to be avoiding the question, do I need to get jealous?" 

Finally there was a laugh.

"Bosh'tet."

"Yeah but I'm your bosh'tet... Whatever the hell that means." They fell into a companionable silence, Trish finally relaxing enough to close her eyes.

"I don't think I can stay here Nick."

"Well, I didn't want to mention it but you  **_are_ ** starting to prune... you're not talking about the bath are you?" 

Trish shook her head.

"This house, my job. Everything hurts too much. I'll just be sat at work and out of nowhere I'll get an anxiety attack about how I'm going to get home, or I have to go into the study for something and I remember about how we were going to turn it into a nursery for Thomas. Everybody keeps saying I need to give it time and I'm trying but-"

"Well I'm not everybody. I'm not going to say that. I don't want you to give this time, I want you to give it  **_thought_ ** . Aldrin Labs has offices in other cities, you can get a transfer. Think seriously about whether or not you think it'll actually make a difference, and where you'd rather be. Once you're certain you've made a decision you'll be happy with then we can move. Just don't say 'anywhere but here'."

"Pretty sure you're supposed to protest and argue more."

"Why? You've got to do what's right for you, and it's not like my job roots me down here, I'm hardly ever home anyway."

"You're not just agreeing to make me happy are you?" Trish checked.

"No. Well a little, but not like that, if I disagreed I'd tell you. For example, I don't want you to switch to the head office on Armstrong. Luna's a great place but it wouldn't be fair on Judy. The others? New York, Mumbai, Tokyo, I got no problem with any of them."

"What if I didn't want to stay with Aldrin anymore? If I wanted to go offworld? Brand new start." Trish was relieved when her partner didn't answer immediately, quietly thinking through the implications before giving her response.

"No space stations. It's got to have breathable atmosphere, no planetwide environmental hazard warnings. I want to be able to get home and take the dog for a run without having to get into protective gear. Other than that, if you're happy and Jude's happy then I'm happy."

"That's it? That's your complete criteria?"

"I mean, it would be nice if it was within two relay jumps of Arcturus, that way there's more chance I'd be able to pop round to visit when I get shore leave and still get back before they class me AWOL, but it's not essential." 

Trish still seemed hesitant and Nikki sighed. 

"Look, the galaxy's a big place and you've got the brains to do anything you want, you can go anywhere. So… do some more research, narrow it down to the top three or four that you like and then we can talk it through some more. Or… just start applying for jobs you like the sound of and see where they send us. Plan?"

"Ok. Plan."

"Good, cos this floor is cold and my leg's gone to sleep." 

Trish laughed.

"Is it as bad as Siberia yet?"

"Don't know, I did my cold training on Antibaar..." Shepard suddenly flinched, closing her eyes just in time to avoid the water that hit her face. She reopened them with a grin, her own hand dipping into the tub. "Careful babe, don't start something you can't finish."


	27. Chapter 27

"It's in the Euler System, Arcturus Stream." Trish stated as she sent the relevant extranet link through to Nikki's omni-tool. "I know you wanted to talk about it some more once I narrowed things down a bit but the company's eager for an answer on whether I'll take the job."

"Hey, we're talking now ain't we?" Shepard stated as she leant back in her bunk, scrolling through the information. "Hmm, the main colony's older than me. That's good, means they'll have solved all those annoying early teething problems."

"Because you never have problems with your teeth anymore." Trish couldn't help commenting but Nikki ignored her.

"Gravity, 1.14g, that's good... Finally! Somewhere warm."

"You don't think it'll be too hot do you?"

"Babe, I'm Mindoirian. I'd happily go swimming in the sun but no-one's found a way to get me back out again yet." 

Trish chuckled. She never knew how her girlfriend could come up with so many quips so quickly and seemingly without effort, but her ability to make her laugh was one of the many, many things she loved about the raven haired marine. 

"Besides I'm sure there'll be air con inside the buildings." Nikki continued. "Now whether or not  _ you _ can handle the heat after so long on miserable old Earth remains to be seen. It's your call babe, but from where I'm sitting it looks perfect. Certainly can't get any closer to Arcturus and still be habitable. Well, not without enviro-suits at least. What about the job, is it something you actually want to do? I don't want you settling for something mundane just because the location's right."

"Ha, hardly. It's with Kassa Fabrication."

"Kassa... I thought they specialised in armour?" Nikki queried as she pulled up a new extranet search.

"They do but they're branching out into omni-tools. Brand new division and I'll be project lead. I get to design a brand new product from scratch, no more trying to improve someone else's shitty design."

"Hey, don't insult the bluewire babe, I'm talking to you on one after all."

"Yeah, I know. Note the second and a half lag and lack of video, you're only two relay jumps away. An audio only call shouldn't be that bad, and it would be even worse if I didn't fiddle around upgrading your 'tool every time you come home. You've got the most advanced bluewire in the galaxy right now and I could still make something better."

"Well, sounds like now's your chance. You- Ooohh... Tell me you get staff discount?" 

There was a laugh.

"What've you found?"

"Armageddon shotgun. That's some impressive stats."

"I'd save your money a little longer on that. They're working on an improved model, even more damage and better cooling systems so it doesn't overheat so quick." Trish revealed. 

"Need someone to field test the prototype?"

"They're not at that stage yet. I'll pass the message on if I take the job though."

"If? What do you mean if? Why wouldn't you? Think of the discount! Come on babe, I mean... the location's perfect, you  _ sound _ excited about the job, what's the catch? Is it a shit salary or something? "

"Hmm, money's a little higher than what I'm on at the moment but not massively so considering the extra responsibility. If it were still on Earth I'm not sure it would be worth it, but it's predominantly an agri colony. Food's cheaper, housing's cheaper, the whole cost of living is lower. Still trying to work out how exactly the taxes work, but I think financially we'd be much better off."

"Then what's the problem? They don't make employees take a vow of celibacy do they?"

"Ha, no. I just... want to be certain. Like you said, it  **_sounds_ ** perfect. With our luck? I don't quite trust it. It almost seems too good to be true."

"Maybe. Or maybe it's just time things went our way for once. Look... Don't let me or anyone else pressure you. You're the brains in this relationship, do some more research, dig a little deeper, make sure the office isn't built on top of a sinkhole or something. Check out your other options and make the decision that's right for you. Just... don't let fear hold you back from something awesome. Ok?"

"Ok. Thanks Nikki."

"Anytime, that's what I'm here for. How long have you got to accept the offer anyway?"

"Two weeks. Then they'll want me to start within a month."

"Shit. I won't be able to get time off to help you move."

"I know. Don't worry. There's these people who's entire job is to move other people's stuff around."

"Yeah, I suppose you could do that. You looked into houses yet?"

"Briefly, not properly though. I wanted to do that together. At least send you the estate agent's links so we can talk through them, find something we both like. Most of it seems to be prefabs, but still..."

"Yeah I'd like that. It'll take time though, what are you going to do in the meantime if you accept?"

"I can stay at a hotel for a bit. Put most of my stuff in storage. Mum's willing to look after Jude for a month or two." 

Nikki smiled. For someone who wasn't certain about accepting, Trish had sure put a lot of thought into how to make this work.

"Hotel's aren't cheap." The soldier warned.

"Yeah well, Kassa's offered to pay the first month while I get settled into colony life."

"Damn, they really want you to say yes. We're talking a proper hotel right, not some dive?" There was a ping on her omni-tool and she looked down at the link to the hotel website. She gave a low whistle. "Do you think you could negotiate for three months and a double bed? I'm sure your mother can look after the dog a bit longer."

Trish laughed but cut off when she heard another alert on Nikki's tool, she hadn't sent anything else. There was a moment's silence before the soldier gave a whispered: "Shit," and Trish had a pretty good idea what was coming next.

"Sorry babe, I got to go. Duty calls."

"Ok, be careful." She knew better than to ask what was going on, and no matter how much she hated it when their talks were interrupted, she knew there was no point arguing about it.

"Of course, I'll text you later. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye." She severed the connection, taking a moment to refocus on what she had to do today rather than what Nick might be about to get into. 

She glanced down in surprise as her omni-tool pinged. For a moment she thought it was just junk mail, then she realised the advert had had the company slogan replaced with the words [Staff discount?] and she shook her head with a smile.

...

There was a knock at the door and Shepard just managed to avoid hitting her head on the work top as she stood up. She knew it wasn't Trish, not only did her partner have a key but she was still living at the hotel and had work today.

Nikki had hoped to surprise her this morning before work, but she'd still been stuck in orbit trying to land. 

Then she'd had to drop Judy off in quarantine. They'd have to wait another day before they could pick her up, but it was better than the months of quarantine that had been necessary on Earth back in the 20th century and that had just been for traveling between countries! 

Still, that was no bad thing. At least it gave Nick time and space to get everything set up in the house.

She finally made it to the front door, opening it to reveal a young lad with blond hair. Well ok, so he was probably mid twenties, about her age give or take a couple years at most, but he  _ looked _ young. He held out a hand.

"Hi, I'm Ben. I live next door."

"Shepard. Uh, I mean Nikki."

"Alliance huh?"

"That obvious?"

"Kind of... plus my cousin's in the marines, he's got one of those tops too." 

Nikki chuckled at her own oversight. The heat of the colony had allowed her to forgo her usual hoody and jeans combo in favour of shorts and a tank top. Her wardrobe lacked diversity in that department however and the clothing in question was part of her PT kit.

"Riiight, what can I do for you Ben?"

"Err, actually I came to ask if you needed a hand with anything?" 

The soldier looked bemused, almost incredulous, at the idea that there might be anything she might not be capable of doing herself.

"Not that you need any help obviously…" He was quick to clarify. "I just saw all the delivery men clear out far too quickly to have helped set up and... Well, it's my day off and there's not exactly anything else to do around here..." 

She looked at him appraisingly before shrugging.

"Hell, who turns down free labour? Can't guarantee you'll be any less bored though. Come on in, you can pass me my tools. If you're good I might even let you move some heavy boxes later." 

He shot her a wondrous grin and traipsed in after her. She was already maneuvering herself into the small gap she'd vacated earlier, but only after making sure her top was tucked in so it couldn't ride up and expose her scar. 

Didn't want to give the kid nightmares after all. 

Or maybe it was more that she wasn't in the mood for questions and awkward pity from a stranger.

"So, is there really nothing else better to do around here?" Nikki enquired as Ben stood awkwardly above her waiting for instructions. 

It wasn't that he regretted coming in or anything, just that with her head under the counter he was left with the sight of vast quantities of bare skin and impressively sculptured muscles and he wasn't quite sure where to look. 

The thought that she could probably kill him without breaking a sweat wasn't as much of a turn off as it should have been either.

"Well there's a paintballing site on the other side of Joughin. We can go there sometime if you like?"

"Pliers." She requested and he was quick to obey. "Sorry, I've only got a couple days leave to sort out the house for Trish and Jude, then I'm back to the fleet."

"Oh, never mind then..." He felt a trickle of disappointment before he replayed her words, counting the number of names and finding a new spark of hope. "Hey, you want to go into town tonight instead?"

"You got somewhere in mind? Crosshead screwdriver, the little one."

"Yeah, the Tavern plays live music Tuesdays and Fridays. Most of the time it's pretty good."

"Tavern, huh? Real original name. I'll have to check with Trish, but I don't see why not."

"So is Trish like your sister or-"

"Girlfriend."

"Oh,  **_OH_ ** ... I didn't realise you were gay." 

Nikki noticed something in his voice and frowned in confusion.  _ It's the 22nd century for fuck's sake, what's your problem? _

"Alliance don't give a damn whether or not we are straight, so long as we can shoot straight."

"Shit no, that's not what I meant, it's all cool. I just... assumed you were single."

"Assumed... are you calling me ugly now?"

"NO! I..." He groaned, burying his head in his hands in despair and mortification, unable to see the teasing twinkle in her eye that gave away the fact she wasn't really upset. Even if it had taken her  _ far _ too long to cotton on to where the conversation was heading. 

Despite now knowing it was pointless Ben found himself admitting: "You're beautiful, I was trying to ask you out." 

There was silence as he stewed in his own foolishness, the soldier not quite sure how to respond. She remained silent as she started wriggling herself back out, glad at least to be able to cross one more thing off her to-do list. It was Ben that ended up speaking first yet again.

"So uh... Trish  **_and_ ** Jude, have you got a kid or are you guys poly?" 

There was a sharp peal of laughter that left him even more bewildered before she brought herself back under control enough to explain.

"Jude's a dog. I suppose you could argue she's our fur baby but we're definitely not sleeping together. At least... Trish better not be sleeping with her! Now do you want me to requisition a shovel or are you going to stop digging?"

"Yeah that might be a good idea." He murmured and Shepard finally took pity on him.

"Tell you what Ben, I won't tell Trish you hit on me so long as you promise to never try and hit on her." 

He nodded, still embarrassed, and she lightly punched him on the arm playfully. He looked up to see a devilish grin on her face. 

"Now, don't get the wrong idea here or anything, but do you want to help me make the bed?" 

He chuckled ruefully as he accepted her hand up and they went back to work, throwing the occasional joke or insult at each other along the way.

...

Nikki lay on her back on the hood of Trish's car with her eyes shut, basking in the late afternoon sun with a smile on her face as she waited semi-patiently.

At least... she  _ hoped _ it was Trish's car! 

Her partner had decided against importing the old one from Earth and got a new model instead and since Nikki still hadn't seen any pictures of it yet, she couldn't be 100% certain she was sprawled across the right vehicle.

An increase in background noise signaled an end to the work day, unknown voices chattering away as people entered the carpark, engines starting up and cars driving away. 

After a couple of minutes the sounds faded back to their previous quiet levels but she refused to entertain any doubt about her plan's chance of success. Even if a traitorous part of her brain did start running through contingency options.

An extremely close thud was her only warning before she sensed a presence climbing onto the car and heard a familiar voice.

"You lied to me... Again!"

"Did I?" Nikki asked without opening her eyes.

"You said I'd get to see you and Jude on the 24th, today's only the 23rd."

"Well that's hardly lying, you  **_will_ ** see us on the 24th. I never said you wouldn't see me today." She finally twisted her head towards the voice and opened her eyes to reveal Trish laid on her side next to her. The older woman trying, and failing, to look annoyed. "Hi."

"Hi." Trish moved closer for a kiss, Nikki rolling her body over to match the angle of her head as she happily reciprocated. They parted, gazing into each other's eyes, Trish gently brushing hair out the soldier's face. "You know, one day you're going to do this once too often and I'm going to be very disappointed when you don't turn up early."

"If you want me to stop doing it you only have to ask." Came the soft reply and Trish shook her head.

"Well, seeing as you are here, what do you want to do now?"

"Lots of things, but there are cameras in the carpark." Nikki shot back without missing a beat, earning herself a laugh, a light shove to the shoulder and a peck on the cheek all in response to the same sentence.

Before either of them could come up with a comeback they were interrupted by the gurgling of a stomach desperately trying to seek attention. 

"So, what do you want to do for dinner? We could go back to your swanky hotel and order room service or I can knock something up at home?"

"You already did a food shop?" 

Nikki nodded and Trish held an internal debate. A few weeks ago it would have been no contest but by now she'd sampled every interesting sounding meal at the hotel and she always enjoyed anything Nick made for her. She briefly wondered whether culinary expertise was hereditary before dismissing it as unimportant. 

"Let's head home, I want to see what you've done to the place."

...

"So... I probably should warn you. I may have made a  _ slight _ tactical error earlier." Nikki stated as they entered the front door.

_ Oh no, what's she done now? _ Trish wondered. Picturing broken furniture that Nikki was determined she could carry on her own, or wet paint or glue from where she started a project without checking how much time she had left or how long it took to dry.

"Did you forget to make the bed?"

"No, I made the bed."

"The shower? We better have a working shower."

Nikki chuckled.

"All essential electrical appliances are installed and working... Except the TV. I've not even started on the living room yet. I did say 'slight' remember. I just saw something while I was shopping and had to get them for you, buuut I kinda forgot we hadn't finished unpacking yet."

They finally reached the kitchen and Trish pulled up short at the sight, desperately trying not to laugh as Nikki wrapped her up in a hug from behind, resting a chin on her shoulder. 

Before her was a simply stunning set of flowers. Placed in the very centre of the kitchen table... In a blender.

"I don't suppose you can remember which box you packed the vases in?" Nikki asked innocently. 

Trish finally lost her battle, laughing as she twisted her head round to gift a kiss.

"They're beautiful... What are they?"

"Flowers." Came the predictable response, the teasing tone making clear that she did know the actual answer but was just being facetious. "Ow! No need to elbow me in the dragon."

"Aww, want me to kiss it better for you?"

"Not if you actually want me to make some dinner tonight." Nikki warned, before answering the original question. "They're Common Irssal."

"Common to where?"

"Thessia. Give them a smell." 

Trish followed her partner's instruction, inhaling a pleasant honey like fragrance.

"Mmhmm, now I want pancakes." 

Nikki laughed, finally releasing her hold round Trish's waist as she headed for the fridge.

"Good thing I did a food shop then." She paused, turning round with a bottle of milk in one hand and eggs in the other to check: "Is that madam's final order?"

Trish nodded before suddenly changing direction and shaking her head with a smirk.

"Concerning the food at least." 

There was the faintest hint of a blush across the soldier's face as she turned with a grin, heading to the counter to start mixing the ingredients together. Trish followed, mirroring their earlier position in reverse as she wrapped her arms round the younger woman. 

"This is perfect. Thank you."

"Careful, I've still got time to burn the pancakes."


	28. Chapter 28

Shepard stepped out of the command tent and into the allegedly organised chaos of the forward base, her brain busy trying to concoct contingency plans for all the varying scenarios that could occur as a result of the gaps in the intel reports that the mission had been planned on. 

Anybody else would have walked into someone by now, but the red and white stripe on her armour seemed to work wonders at clearing a route for her and it wasn't long before she was in the section of camp where the strike teams spent their down time.

She felt a prickle of annoyance when she noticed the camera drone, knowing full well that Alliance Media Ops wouldn't have given permission for the press to enter that particular section of camp. 

Her irritation only grew further as she recognised one of her men speaking to the reporter, clearly using sentences bigger than 'no comment', although it faded somewhat as she got close enough to hear the actual words.

"You see the enemy attaches microscopic cameras to the pyjaks and then train them to infiltrate Alliance camps and gather intel..." 

She almost wanted to wait and see how long the soldier could keep the story going before the reporter caught on, but unfortunately she had a job to do.

"Sergeant! You know the rules. No talking to the press without a warrant."

The man looked suitably chastised, even if he hadn't been divulging anything important, or factual for that matter. 

Although it did back up a few of her suspicions regarding the recent Westerlund News broadcast that had claimed the instigator of the Skyllian Blitz, Elanos Haliat, was on the run disguising himself as various different species. With one notable alias being a turian named Sandy Claws. 

"Now go grab your gear and round up Echo squad, we've got another pyjak nest to clear."

"Yes Ma'am!" The Sergeant's eyes sparkled with suppressed glee at her continuing his fake news story as he spun away from the camera and started running. She turned to follow him but was stopped by a hand on her arm. A glare was enough for the reporter to rapidly remove it.

"Excuse me, uh... ma'am," If Shepard wasn't losing patience she might have been amused at the way the woman failed to decipher a rank from her armour. "Can I have a word?"

"Oh sure, you can have two words, 'comment' and 'no'. Arrange them in any order you want." She marched off and it didn't take long for her to begin shouting to her team. 

"Kassovitz! What the hell are you doing? ... Tough luck, I order you to lose that bet right now and grab your shit, you planning on letting the enemy die of boredom? Let's go!"

...

"Intel says they're moving merchandise through here but didn't say what." Shepard started the briefing as soon as the shuttle lifted off, hoping to get to the good bit before the rest of the nine man squad realised they were leaving orbit and started protesting the idea of withdrawing from the current war zone. 

She pointed out the relevant planet on the star charts before flipping to orbital photos of the target. "If it's drugs we destroy them, if it's slaves we bring them home."

"And if it's weapons?" Gurung inquired.

"A little bit of column A, a little of column B." 

Shepard missed who exactly came out with  **_that_ ** remark, but her money would be on either Elwick or Mercer. She decided to glare at them both equally.

"You all know what the regs say about looting, I better not catch anyone breaking them." Nobody bothered responding with 'don't worry, you won't catch us' but the understanding was certainly there. 

Truthfully she didn't care if the odd expensive weapon mod remained unaccounted for. Her men deserved quality gear, sometimes it could quite literally make the difference between life and death, and if the Alliance wasn't willing to foot the bill for it then she could live with the occasional bouts of temporary blindness. 

So long as no-one took the piss. 

Anyone attempting to take anything strictly illegal in Citadel or Alliance space would quickly find themselves in hot water and a military tribunal. Same with trying to make a steady income on the side.

"As I was saying, we're not getting backup on this one. They start pulling troops off the ground here or moving ships around, the enemy's going to notice and bolt. Now intel's sketchy at best but that's nothing new so, here's what we're gonna do..."

...

A double tap to the head broke the helmet-less batarian's shields and ended his life. Shepard quickly ducking back behind cover as she searched for a new target. 

The enemy had been caught by surprise and despite their apparent intent to fight to the bitter end they had barely slowed her squad down.

A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she turned in time to see a sniper relocate to a position with perfect sight lines on Elwick. 

She didn't have a clear shot and not enough time to move to get one, so she raised her omni-tool sending an overload and a prayer in the turian's direction.

Both hit the mark as the tech attack managed to knockout his shields and overheat the rifle before he could fire. 

He was obviously a pro. Wasting no time messing around trying to fix it. Instead simply dropping the useless weapon and drawing his sidearm but it was too late, Mercer hitting him with a shotgun blast as he flanked his position. 

All targets down, they kept moving. Securing the base room by room until they were all clear.

"Teams Two and Three security. Team One sweep for intel, double check for booby traps before you touch or hack anything. Medics sta-" 

It turned out she didn't need to give the medics orders, they were already carrying out their duty. Scanning the captives for injuries from outside the cages so they'd know what order they'd need to be treated in, and it seemed they'd already discovered something serious.

"Boss! She needs an emergency crike now!" 

Nikki glanced at McKendrick's glowing omni-tool display and back at the cage.

"I can't disarm the bomb that quick. Is it safe to move her closer to the bars?" 

The answer was a firm negative. 

Nobody wanted to just sit and watch a child die when they were so close to saving them, but they had little choice, opening the cage doors would see them all blown up.

Shepard's eyes landed on a salarian inside the cage. She was by no means an expert on judging alien ages but she'd guess around ten/eleven. Not the oldest captive but then again salarians matured quicker than other species and while the rest were still in shock his eyes suggested he'd already processed everything and, maybe not come to terms with it, but at least understood what was going on. 

With a simple: "get me a trache tube" to the medic she waved him over, removing her helmet as she knelt by the bars.

"Beth's condition serious. No time for you to help. Need me yes?" The youngster accurately surmised and Shepard simply nodded.

"I need you to cut an incision into her throat, put your hand through the bars and I'll show you where." She took gentle hold of his three fingered appendage and ran it across her bare throat, stopping at her thyroid cartilage. 

"Feel that yes? Ok, now down here, feel that?" She paused at the cricoid cartilage, waiting for him to nod before moving back up again. "I need you to find those two points on her and then this bit in the middle. Just here, you feel that? I need you to make a vertical cut this long and this deep."

She help up her fingers to demonstrate the appropriate sized gap, nodding when he copied with the same length.

"Very good, then the same again horizontally and you have to put this tube in her throat." 

Mac handed her a trache tube and scalpel and she passed them through the bars in turn. 

"Think you can manage that? Very good." 

The salarian scrambled over to the girl and Shepard nodded encouragingly as he looked over to check his positioning.

"You know the odds of this working are slim right?" The medic warned in a hushed tone. "Even with someone trained it would-"

"I know but you got a better plan? I'll take a one in a hundred chance of success over one in a billion that a miracle will magically make her not die without oxygen."

"And if it fails? Getting the kid involved, he could end up with some serious guilt issues, you think about that?"

"He's salarian, he's a quarter of the way through his life cycle already, hardly a child by their standards. Besides they've been slaves for months Mac, they're gonna have to have compulsory counseling sessions regardless." 

The medic shook his head but remained silent.

"Now what?" The salarian called out, the soldiers breathing twin sighs of relief as they saw the girl's chest start rising again.

"Now, I disarm the bombs. Mac will talk you through anything else."

...

"No comment." 

Trish hadn't been paying any attention to the TV in the corner until she heard what sounded like a familiar voice.

"No comment." A different voice. 

She wondered if she'd imagined the first one but looked up anyway. 

The report claimed to be breaking and live at the scene of an Alliance victory, two soldiers carried a stretcher with a young human girl led out on it, other children of various species moving in the middle of a squad of helmeted, black armoured troops.

"No comment." Yet another voice claimed as its owner passed the camera. Each soldier in turn issuing the same refrain until:

"Hi Mom." Trish couldn't help a smile at that,  _ there's always one _ . 

She couldn't see the speaker's face through his helmet but he'd sounded young, although not as young as the turian getting a piggyback on his shoulders or the asari clutching his hand as she walked beside him.

"Copy that, thanks Eagle. Get out of here, we'll find somewhere to hole up." The voice that had first caught her attention suddenly spoke again and she was pretty certain it was who she thought it was. That certainty solidified as the camera moved to focus on the speaker, revealing N7 armour. "Alright folks, you heard the man. Get them back to objective 2 and dig in, I'll get dipshit." 

The camera seemed torn between following the about facing squad or the dashing leader, but decided to follow the N7 as she headed towards its owner.

"Can I ask a few questions?" The reporter immediately jumped to work, solidifying the accuracy of his new nickname.

"No you ca- ... You're actually broadcasting live? I don't believe- You idiot! Fine, give it here." 

It was subtle and Trish doubted anybody who didn't know Nikki personally could have picked up on the deception, but she knew all her partner's minute tells and was certain the soldier had known full well from the start that the camera was broadcasting. 

She didn't know what or why, but she was convinced that meant the N7 was already carrying out some complex scheme. The woman onscreen touched a button and her helmet de-tinted, finally revealing the familiar face.

"Hi slavers! Congratulations on tracing this broadcast signal, you're either moderately clever or insanely stupid. Now I know you're sitting up there in your silly little spaceships with all your silly little guns, and I know you're just itching to get your base and all your merchandise back, but I'm afraid if you want these kids you got to go through me…"

The soldier smiled but it was nothing like the smiles Trish was used to seeing on Nikki's face.

"Now if you were smart, I'd recommend finding an Alliance patrol to surrender to, but if you got a death wish then come on down. My men and I will be happy to oblige. Oh and if those idiots at Intelligence are watching, I've got three words for you: Delta-Delta-Five. If you want to live come with me and stop broadcasting." 

That last was aimed not at camera but the reporter directly and seconds later the video cut to black, switching hastily to a news anchor in the station somewhere completely different who certainly wasn't ready for it.

"Uh... We'll have more on that story as it unfolds."

_ Not if Nikki gets her way you won't _ . Trish thought briefly, before her thoughts went tumbling down far more worrying paths.

...

"Good thing we didn't blow the demo charges yet." Shepard stated casually as she strode into the formerly enemy base. 

"Alright, we're switching up the teams. Mac, Wizzo and Big G, Team Three, take the civvies and hole up in that crashed ship a couple klicks south. Maintain radio silence, I want you completely dark, Wizzo will scram and jam. Same code phrases for success and duress as before. If we genuinely need to update your orders the authentication code will be 'Sarah Jane called'. Kassovitz, Little G, with me, the rest of you Team Two. We're going full on Lemmy Johnson."

Despite how random her words must sound to anyone else, her squad knew exactly what she meant and started getting to work reinitiating the base's defenses. 

The two medics grabbed either end of Beth's stretcher and started moving, Wizzo and the reporter helping herd the rest of the children, but the eldest turian broke free, racing up in front of her.

"I want to help, I can fight!" 

Shepard looked the youngster up and down as her omni-tool translated his words.

"You sure about that? You look a couple months shy of boot camp to me."

"I can fight." 

She held back a sigh at the repetition. She knew it was important not to judge aliens by human standards, asari in their nineties were still equivalent to human teenagers, salarians were nearing the end of their lives in their forties and so had to mature much quicker accordingly. All turians in hierarchy space went to boot camp at age 15 and many important families gave their own children a head start in military training much earlier. 

That knowledge didn't stop her from seeing a kid that needed protecting though. It also didn't stop her recognising the determined look in his eye. The one that declared if she didn't give permission, he'd try his luck at something dangerous anyway.

"What's your name?" She caught herself before she said 'kid'.

"Barro, Astur Barro. I can fight."

"I believe you. I'm not asking if you can fight Astur, I'm asking if you can follow orders? My orders." 

He nodded and part of her hated what she was about to do.

"Ok then. Repeat after me: I Astur Barro, swear upon my honour as a turian to do my duty to the hierarchy. To defend our land, protect our people and help our allies. As long as blood flows through my veins I shall not falter. To disobey a legal order is to mutiny, to give an illegal order is calefricum." 

Shepard was privately pleased when she pronounced the turian word perfectly, not only was there no direct translation but it had taken four members of Blackwatch half an hour to explain the full significance of the concept to her training cadre. 

Out of everything she'd learnt during joint species training ops, she certainly never thought the thing she'd first find a practical use for was the turian pledge of allegiance. The few members of her team not busy weren't looking so impressed, but she wasn't sure if it was due to her knowing the words or agreeing to the boy's request. 

The turian however was standing to attention, practically radiating pride as he spoke the words. No longer waiting for the translation and repeating them, but reciting them with her in perfect sync.

"Until my service is up I shall live and breathe by the code. Death before dishonour, service before self." Astur finished with a salute and Shepard returned the gesture in the turian style. 

She allowed him a moment to bask in his private glory before handing over a pistol. Reassured when he completed the appropriate safety checks before holstering it.

"Ok, Barro. You're with Team Three, protect the civilians. Wizzo will be your section lead, carry on." She saw the feeling of betrayal in his eyes as she sent him to safety. If he'd been human he'd have protested and whined about wanting to fight on the front lines, but it was a legal order and he'd made his pledge. As a turian there was nothing he could do except mutter: "Yes ma'am" and dejectedly slink away. 

It was now official: she felt like an evil little shit. She quickly banished the thought from her mind, there was a job to do.

"Alright, I'm gonna go booby trap the rear exit tunnels. You got thirty minutes to finish making this place a death trap then we're moving out." 

It was true that the base was the most defensible place on the planet, but her team had already proven that it could be breached and as the saying went: 'make it tough enough for the enemy to get in and you won't be able to get out'. 

They didn't have the numbers or the food supplies to withstand a siege. Besides, they were called strike teams for a reason. They might as well play to their advantages.

...

Trish was fine. 

Seriously. 

She hadn't expected to hear anything from Nikki for a couple more days anyway. 

The lack of messages was nothing unusual. It was pretty normal actually. 

Expected. 

It was perfectly fine, and so was she.

Ok so she  _ nearly _ murdered Ben when he visited and almost gave her a heart attack, ringing the doorbell like that instead of giving his customary secret knock. 

And she  _ appeared _ to have developed a habit of holding her breath whenever she answered a call regardless of whether it was at home or the office, but that didn't  _ mean _ anything.

She was used to Nick being out of contact for long periods of time. Often she didn't even know if Nikki was on an op or just bumming around the base bored, waiting for something to happen. 

Most of the time she could get away with kidding herself it was the latter, but even on the occasions when Nick had been called away mid conversation for an op and she knew for certain that shit was going down, it wasn't normally quite this nerve wracking.

Then again Nikki didn't usually go on galactic television and practically scream 'come on then if you think you're hard enough!' to every piece of criminal scum in the sector. 

Trish had already accepted the fact that their scheduled phone call wouldn't be happening and instead of setting an alarm to make sure she had time to pee and get a drink and get comfortable before the call like she normally did, she surfed random vids on the net, desperately trying to ignore the fact there might be anything wrong. 

She was therefore startled when her omni-tool rang right on time. Her breath catching as she answered, hoping it wasn't the Alliance.

"Hi babe."

"Nikki?"

"Uh, yeah... you expecting someone else?" Came the slightly confused but mostly teasing response. It certainly didn't sound like one of those awful cheesy and impractical moments in the vids where the overwhelmed soldier called to confess their love and say goodbye.

"How long have you been back from your mission?"

"I don't know, about eight or ten hours. Why?"

"You didn't think to message me?"

"Why, it's wednesday ain't it? We already had this call scheduled, I start messaging you randomly you're gonna assume something's wrong and start worrying." 

Trish could just picture the casual shrug that accompanied that statement.

"So... You didn't want to worry me?" She didn't even attempt to hide the incredulity in her voice.

"Yeah, what's wro- Hang on... How do you even know I was on a mission? I didn't tell you about this one."

"Uh, I saw your little interview on the news." Her eyebrows raised pointedly even though there was no video to convey the fact to Nikki.

"Interview? I haven't- Shit! Fuck... sorry babe, I forgot about that."

"Forgot!? How the hell do you forget about something like that?" Trish finally lost it, her voice getting higher.

"I was kinda busy! As I'm sure you can imagine if you saw that broadcast." 

Trish finally calmed down slightly, feeling guilty as she realised she hadn't even asked yet:

"Are you alright? Did you get them all out?"

Nick sighed morosely.

"Not quite, nearly... One of the kids didn't make it. 'Infection arising from complications after emergency battlefield surgery'. Might have made it if we got her to a med bay quick enough but, well..."

"I'm sorry... At least you saved the rest of them. What about your team?"

"Nothing medi-gel and a good shrink won't fix."

"And you? You alright?"

"Of course. I'm five by fi- No, wait... You know how you're always moaning that I say I'm five by five all the time when I never use the rest of the scale?" The relief residing in Trish's chest was instantly shot down and replaced with worry. "Well five by three, I sprained my knee." 

Even on an audio only call Trish could see that damn grin across her partner's face as she groaned in reply.

"You are  _ rubbish _ at this whole reassuring me thing."

"Sorry."

"I still can't believe you forgot about sticking your middle finger up at a bunch of slavers on live television."

"I didn't actually stick-" It was Nikki's turn to groan. "Would I be in more or less trouble if I lied and pretended I had amnesia from a concussion?"

"Depends on whether it's true or not."

"Sorry who are you? What are we talking about again?"

"Very funny Nikki. Ha, ha, ha. I'm dying of laughter."

"Really? Sounds more like you're planning ways to kill me. I might have to start wearing my armour round the house." The soldier sighed, suddenly growing serious again. "I really am sorry Trish. I apologise for being a hopeless, unthinking idiot and making you worry longer than you had to. It won't happen again."

"What won't? Being an idiot, daring an entire slave syndicate fleet to attack you on live television or not messaging me to let me know the moment you were safe?"

"Uh... the last one?" 

Trish couldn't help a faint chuckle. No matter how much she wanted to be pissed at Nikki, she just couldn't manage it for very long.

"Alright sweetheart I forgive you. For future reference, if you think there's even the slightest chance of the media leaking your whereabouts or actions then I'd much rather get a message out of nowhere saying you're fine when I didn't know you might not be, rather than be worrying over something I saw on the news ok?"

"Ok. I'll try and keep it in mind." 

Trish smiled, finally starting to fully relax and de-stress for the first time since she saw the news report. 

They started chatting about anything and nothing, and were still talking when her omni-tool chimed with a message. She glanced down and burst out laughing when she read:

[So... you may have seen me on the news a couple days ago. I don't want you to worry I'm perfectly safe now. Oh and some weird stuff's been happening with military omni-tools recently, you should ignore the time stamp on this, it was  **_totally_ ** sent ten hours ago. Love you, Nikki. (Sorry)]


	29. Chapter 29

Trish woke to the sound of running feet, shouting children and something loud, sharp and painfully off key that could only be described as an unholy racket. 

_ Why is there always something noisy in christmas sacks or stockings? _ She internally griped.

That wasn't to say she didn't  _ like _ Christmas, as a child it had been a truly magical time of the year. 

However since reconnecting with Nikki the holiday season had been split into two varieties, ones where the marine was on leave, and ones where she was on active duty. This year, just like last year, they had been unlucky.

Realising that further sleep would be impossible, she forced herself up off the couch, neatly folding the blankets she'd been using in one corner and snuck out of the room. 

Fortunately those members of the house already awake were still too focused on presents from Santa to remember about more basic needs like going to the toilet and brushing their teeth, so she managed to get into the bathroom without fighting or queuing. Her luck ran out however when she tried to get breakfast and found a veritable army of people inside prepping for the main meal later in the day.

"Out! Get out." The aunt who's kitchen it was ordered, waving a potato peeler in her direction.

"What happened to breakfast being the most important meal of the day?" Trish tried to protest with little success.

"That's only for the other 364 days of the year."

"This year was a leap year." She answered facetiously, managing to catch the piece of fruit that was lobbed towards her head in response before deciding to beat a hasty retreat. 

_ I bet they would have given Nikki food. I swear that woman can charm her way in to, out of, and around any situation. _

Finding a slightly quieter room she curled up on a chair and tried to call her girlfriend, fighting hard to combat the sense of disappointment that swept through her when there was no answer. Instead she switched to text, typing out a message to send.

[Merry Christmas sweetie! Hope they don't make you work too hard today. Love you always and see you in the New Year. (You better call me before then though) Love Trish xXx]

It wasn't until after she sent it that she realised she might have tempted fate. 

After all, last year Shepard had been forced to educate a group of batarians on the fact that: 'peace on Earth and goodwill to all men' doesn't mean the Alliance won't retaliate if you attempt a slave grab in the outer colonies on Christmas Day. 

Trish hoped the lesson had stuck and her girlfriend would have a quieter day this year.

"There you are." A voice interrupted her musings and she looked up into the soft smile of her mother. "Come on, everybody's waiting to open the main presents."

The day picked up quickly after that. Presents, food, vids and boardgames, it was everything Christmas was supposed to be. Right down to the inevitable game of trivial pursuit.

"Who was the first human on Earth's moon?" 

Trish knew the answer. It began with an 'N' but it wasn't the name she called out as she felt a vibration from the omni-tool on her wrist.

"Nikki!" She hurried out, with probably the only excuse her relatives would have allowed her to leave with. Answering the call, she found herself looking at a familiar grin and a pair of chocolate brown eyes that were warm and deep enough to drown in.

"Merry Christmas babe."

"Merry Christmas." Trish was glad to see her looking cheerful and less emotionally drained than last year, although that didn't necessarily guarantee a carefree day on her girlfriend's behalf.

"I see you got my present. It looks good on you." The soldier offered and Trish's hand jumped to the pendant round her neck, an intricate silver dream catcher with turquoise beads.

"It's beautiful, thank you. I got you a present too but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until you get home before you can open it. I can give you a sneak preview if you like?"

"Ooh that sounds promising. Careful though, what if we're caught?" Shepard smirked salaciously.

"What? Urgh... Head out the gutter you. That's not what I meant."

"Pity. Alright, alright, I promise to be good. What's my present?" 

Trish paused, not as any sort of response to the teasing but because she suddenly wasn't so certain if her 'gift' was such a good idea. This year had had a few roller-coaster moments for the soldier, including her first trip 'home' to Mindoir since the raid. 

Having accompanied her girlfriend to the Anniversary memorial service Trish had come to realise that, while she had known on a theoretical level that Nikki had lost everything back then, she hadn't truly understood quite how much that meant before their trip. 

That when Nick had left Mindoir the first time she'd had nothing left but her name and the clothes on her back.

"I'm not sure I should give it to you. It might make you cry."

"Nonsense. Marines don't cry, our eyeballs sweat." Came the typical macho reply and Trish scoffed despite herself.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." She raised her wrist, pressing the necessary commands to send the file over to Nikki's omni-tool, the soldier smirking as she received it.

"Oh a photo? And you said it's not-..." She trailed off as she opened it, her breath catching as she saw the image within. 

Silence stretched out for an age as Shepard gazed enraptured at something she never thought she'd see again, and in some ways she never would.

"You ok sweetie?" Trish asked concerned.

"Yeah. Wha- You... How?" Came the broken voice, words having to be physically forced past the lump in her throat, her eyes still not lifting from the picture.

"I asked my mum if she still had any of my old omni-tools from when I was a kid. She did and I found some photos from Mindoir on there. It's from your 16th birthday party." 

Nikki nodded, the cake in the middle kind of gave that away but it wasn't where her attention lay. 

No, she was glued to her parents' faces. 

The pair of them rolling their eyes in mock despair and actual pride while her elder brothers; John and Mark, messed around trying to cover the candles up so she couldn't blow them out, and younger brother Kevin tried to steal some icing off the side.

"I found some more too. Put them together in a photo album for you."

"Thank you. I... Thank you."

The image blurred as her eyes did more than just sweat but she didn't care. It was a snapshot of her past true, but more than that... it was the first time she'd seen her family in ten years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, you never read the Mindoir memorial scene, that's because I never actually wrote it. This was originally a xmas special one shot that I wrote when in the middle of writing the ME1 part of the saga. I debated whether or not to include it here and thought 'why not?'
> 
> I also considered writing the missing memorial/homecoming chapter, even managed a short build up, but the actual event on Mindoir just wasn't coming to me. Maybe one day.
> 
> Hope you're still enjoying.


	30. Chapter 30

[What do you think?] 

That's all the message said. 

There was no clue or warning about the deviancy about to occur. Just those four simple words and a picture of a black dress. So, Nikki gave her honest opinion.

[Ooh, that is sexy!]

[So you'll wear it?] 

The feeling was much like that time they'd been ambushed by a mixed krogan and hanar mercenary squad: Shock, horror and a desire to laugh hysterically. At least with the ambush her best course of action had been clear.

[Umm... I think you have the wrong number, this is your OTHER girlfriend. The one who DOESN'T wear dresses!]

[Oh silly me, so it is! I thought I was talking to the girlfriend who agreed to accompany me to the tech awards.]

[Yeah about that... You didn't say anything about a dress, I think I'm cleaning my rifle that night.]

[Don't even think about it Shepard! I believe your words were 'I wouldn't miss it for the world'.] 

There was a far longer pause than normal with no comeback and the sunbathing Trish started to worry she was going to get the text version of the silent treatment. Either that or an essay. 

Eventually her omni-tool pinged with an audio file, already cued up to play part way through, she opened it and was instantly met with music.

{I would do anything for love, anything you've been dreaming of, but I just won't do THAT!} 

Trish burst into laughter as the song built to a crescendo and when it ended she jumped straight past the marker to the very beginning for another listen. The noise soon caught the neighbour's attention, Ben coming out into the garden with a smile.

"I didn't know you liked Meat Loaf?"

"First time I've heard it. Nick just sent it to me."

His face faded to a concerned frown.

"Everything ok between you two?" 

Instead of explaining she scrolled up a bit and held her omni-tool out so he could read the conversation. When he finished he looked up with a devilish grin.

"Just tell her I'll go."

"Well now, that could work." Her fingers rapidly typed across the interface. [Nice song. Don't worry about it then, Ben's agreed to be my plus one.] 

The reply was nearly instantaneous: [The hell he is!] 

The co-conspirators smirked to each other but a second message quickly followed the first.

[Hang on, does HE have to wear the dress? If so I want pics and you have my blessing. Have fun guys.]

"Damn!" They looked at each other for inspiration, Ben opening his mouth to say something and wordlessly closing it again several times before Trish started typing again. 

He craned his head for a better view, eyes widening as he read: [Ben will wear one if you do.]

"What? No! Don't send that, I didn't agree- ... ... ... I hate you."

"Come off it, don't tell me you don't want to see Nikki in a dress too."

"Well yeah, but-"

[Guess that settles it. No dresses.]

[Come on sweetie, you knew it would be a formal bash, you didn't think you could turn up in a hoody did you?]

[No, but I've got this thing called no.1 uniform that I thought I could wear. I seem to remember you saying I looked good in it.]

"She does look pretty good in it."

"Who's side are you on here Ben?"

"What!?" 

They continued debating among themselves, completely forgetting about the need to send a message back until Trish's omni-tool rang with an incoming call. She hit the accept button.

"Ben, if you're there do me a favour and sod off. I need to speak to Trish a moment." Was the less than cheerful greeting.

"Sodding off." The man replied before quickly scurrying away.

"Nikki! That wasn't very nice, what's got into you?"

"What? I want a private conversation and I don't have time for small talk. What's all this dress business really about babe?"

"It's just a dress Nick. It's not some dark sinister plot or something, I just thought you'd look good in it. I've never seen you in a dress before."

"Yeah, there's a reason for that."

"Which is?" Trish prodded after a moment of silence made it clear the soldier wasn't going to expand upon the topic on her own.

"I just don't like them... No, it's more than not liking. I'm not comfortable in them. That... doesn't really explain it either..." 

This time the civilian kept quiet in the pause, knowing her partner was trying to think of the right words to use. 

"It's... It's like my entire body is screaming at me to get it off right now. I don't know why, it just is. It's like a claustrophobic person being trapped in an elevator, I can't think about anything else except getting out."

"I didn't know... Guess if I want to see you in a dress I'll have to practice my photo editing skills then." Trish teased, earning a tension easing chuckle.

"Sorry babe."

"It's alright. You are still coming right? I don't care what you wear as long as you're there."

"Yeah I'll be there. Wait, did you just say I can wear whatever I want? Does that-"

"No hoodies!" Trish quickly amended as she saw where her girlfriend was heading.

"Damn, nearly... What about-"

"It's got to be smart dear, and you  _ know _ I mean formal smart not clever smart, before you start going through your smart-ass quotes t-shirt collection."

"Fine, fine. I'm sure I can find  _ something _ to wear."

...

Nikki possessed many varied skills. Unfortunately, sitting quietly and patiently for long periods of time didn't appear to be one of them. 

Which was a little strange when you thought about it. After all, she didn't seem to have a problem with silence and stillness when waiting several days in the same spot to launch an ambush. 

Maybe she just needed something to focus on. She could do with a hobby.

Right now however her near constant fidgeting and random mouth or finger generated sounds were bugging the hell out of Trish, no matter how hard she tried to ignore her girlfriend and concentrate on debugging the problematic algorithms. 

She subconsciously smiled as she noticed the slight irony, before finally losing her patience as her partner blew up her cheeks and hit the sides of her face to noisily force the air back out.

"For crying out loud Nick, just go outside!"

"But it's raining." Came back the childish pout.

"Then go round Ben's house or something." 

The soldier slunk out without another word and Trish breathed a sigh of relief as she focused back on her work. She felt a little bad that she was ignoring Nick after she came all this way for her, but she really wanted to get this finished before the award ceremony.

It felt like mere minutes before she heard Nikki's voice again and for a brief second she wondered if the N7 had merely hacked the clock, there was no way it had been three and a half hours already! Although it might explain why she was hungry.

She glanced up as the dastardly duo entered the room, halfway through what sounded pretty close to an argument, and she tried not to laugh at the sight that met her eyes.

"I don't know what you're upset about Ben. It's short, easy to maintain, out of your eyes and above all free. It ticks all the boxes."

"It's lopsided! I can't believe you slaughtered my hair!"

"What did you expect asking a marine to cut it? Killing things is what we do!"

"I didn't  _ ask _ , you offered."

"I only offered because you kept going on about it being too long. Trish said you've been moaning about your hair for months. You could have said no. Or better yet, paid a professional to do it."

"I assumed you knew what you were doing!"

"First rule of life, never assume."

"Children, please!" Trish groaned, she had been so close to the solution but now she felt the answer, and her sanity, slip through her grasp. "Why are you back already anyway?"

"Figured I best bring you some food, I know you forget to eat when you get wrapped up in a project." Nikki stated, producing a takeaway bag with a flourish and looking about as smug as a cat who's dragged in a pigeon.

That simile became far too accurate when Trish opened up the containers to find only a handful of egg fried rice left, the grains of rice far outnumbered by peas. It was accompanied by a solitary chicken ball, HALF a pancake roll and an almost decent sized portion of chow mein. Although that last probably had more to do with Nikki's penchant for always buying three times more noodles than rice rather than any actual attempt to leave her some.

"Thanks... I think." For a moment Trish wondered why they couldn't have simply come in when the food first arrived and had the meal together. 

Then she realised that would mean putting up with their annoying antics the entire time and decided she much preferred this scenario. Nicola's seemingly bizarre actions often tended to be well thought out and make a strange sort of sense if you just applied a completely different type of logic than normal to them. 

Still, she felt an eyebrow raise of its own accord as she examined the pancake roll, noticing bite marks along the edge instead of the clean cut of a knife. 

"You're lucky I love you."

"Love you too babe." Nikki cheerfully intoned as she gifted her with a kiss to the cheek, before turning to walk back out. "Come on Ben, off we fuck. See you tonight babe."

...

Ben had been wrong. 

Nikki didn't look 'pretty good' in her Alliance dress blues. 

She looked drop dead gorgeous and sexy as hell. 

Of course it was possible Trish was biased. Considering the amount of attention her girlfriend seemed to be attracting from other quarters however, she doubted her assessment was too far off from reality.

She supposed she couldn't blame people for looking, Shepard was stunning and they were only human after all. Well... and asari... aaand she was no expert but there had to be a question mark about that turian by the bar... 

Ok, so they were mere mortals, and if she hadn't been lucky enough to capture the soldier's heart then she'd be checking her out too. Hell, she had and she still was.

No, while she wished they were a bit less obvious about it, she could live with people devouring her partner with their eyes. Safe in the knowledge that she'd be the only one who got to devour her for real later. 

What  _ did _ threaten to piss her off however, was some people's subtle attempts to flirt with her N-baby. (Nikki's assertion that: as a level 7 she was an official N-guy now and no longer an N-baby, had been wholeheartedly ignored by Trish).

She had thought it had been pretty clear when they entered that they were together as more than just an escort, but as soon as her boss pulled her away with a brief 'can I borrow Ms Stewart for a moment' the vultures had begun to circle, desperate to usurp her position.

Part of her wanted to be annoyed when Nikki didn't immediately shoot down their advances, then again they  **_were_ ** subtle. She didn't think her hopeless Mindorian had even cottoned on to what was happening. Nicola had always struggled to distinguish the difference between flirting and playful banter, tending to interpret all but the most obvious advances as the later. 

With that in mind, Trish was content to reserve her irritation for the perpetrators and not take it out on her blissfully unaware partner. It certainly helped that, throughout the entire evening, the only ass she caught the N7 checking out was her own.

She'd been away for far too long now though, she decided as she witnessed the purple crested harlot attempt to give Nikki a drink for the fourth time. 

_ If you're going to make a pass at her then at least pay attention to her! How can you still not have noticed she's not drinking by now? _ Trish thought enraged. 

She made her excuses to her current social circle and headed back over, taking a slight detour along the way to request an empty cocktail glass from one of the servers as an idea popped into her head.

...

"What about this one?" One of the soldier's many admirers inquired, pointing to another of the ribbons on her chest as Trish crept up unobserved behind the group.

"Distinguished combat medal."

"And what did you get it for?"

"Sorry, that's classified." 

Trish smirked at the response but the rest of the crowd weren't as impressed by the answer, clearly they'd been hoping for some heroic tale of daring do. Admittedly even the heavily censored and highly abridged version she'd been given when she'd asked about it had been rather dashing. Still, she figured now was as good a time as any to interrupt.

"Can I tempt you to a cocktail?"

"No thanks I-... Trish!" The clearly automated response cut off mid sentence as Nikki recognised her voice and turned round. The polite, careful smile that had adorned her features since being separated, swept aside by a much more genuine grin. One that only grew when she finally looked down at the contents of the cocktail glass in the civilian's hand. 

"Oh, that is brilliant! It's even got one of those little umbrella stick things!" She immediately picked up said umbrella, using it to skewer a vol-au-vent and one of the mini cocktail sausages out of the glass and into her mouth.

"Mmm, best cocktail ever! This is why I love you babe." 

It might be childish, but Trish would admit to feeling great joy and smugness at the looks that overcame the other hangers-on as they finally realised they had no hope.

"Because I bring you food?" Trish asked.

The soldier shook her head.

"Because you're smart, sexy  **_and_ ** bring me food. I liked your speech by the way... Slightly disappointed you didn't use mine."

"The one that started: 'peers and peasants, thank you for finally acknowledging my genius'?"

"Yeah, it would have been awesome. Still, never mind... Can we go get more cocktails?"

...

The thing about Nikki not drinking was that she didn't have to suffer hangovers the next day, Trish grouched as she woke up just before midday with a dry throat and a sore head. It just wasn't fair. 

Then again at least Nikki used to drink, so she was aware of the hell that was the morning after and it appeared today she was being considerate rather than crashing noisily round the kitchen under the guise of 'kindly' making her breakfast in bed.

Instead the house was silent as Trish reached for the water and painkillers on the bedside cabinet that she had forgotten to leave out the night before. Beside them led a datapad and once she was sure the light from screen wouldn't burn out her retinas she turned it on.

[You're alive! I'm going to take Jude round Ben's so we don't wake you. Call or message me if you want anything. Love Nikki

P.S - I ate the last of the bacon. If you want me to make a breakfast that utilizes this magic ingredient please make it very clear so I can steal Ben's before I head back.

P.P.S - Your award's in the kitchen. I know last night you said you didn't need it when you had me but I figured I'd carry it back anyway, just in case sober you had a different opinion.]

Trish smiled, briefly considering calling her partner back to wait on her. The painkillers seemed to be doing their job however so she decided to get up and hunt Nikki down herself. 

She found the pair of them in Ben's garden. The civilian trying to work on his model army while the soldier flicked through something on a datapad.

"I don't get the point." Nikki was saying. "You're the only one on the colony who does this so you can't exactly play with them against anybody."

"I can play games on the extranet, just select an army and which units I want to field and then it mocks the whole thing up digitally."

"But then why bother spending all that money on the models if you don't need them for the game?"

"Because I like to, painting them's relaxing. At least, it is when you're not here." If the jibe was supposed to shut her up it didn't work.

"You should get one of these." Shepard declared, holding the datapad up to show him something. Ben glanced up briefly, shrugging before returning his attention back to his task.

"Can't, wrong army."

"But it looks badass."

"I already have warbikes... Page 83 if you want to look." 

Nikki flicked through the pad and Trish belatedly realised it was a catalogue she was scrolling through.

"Meh, they're boring, you should get the others. Just leave the people out and put in the riders from your own side."

"Doesn't work like that, you can't just use units from other armies!"

"Why not? Half the merc groups in the Terminus use AX-9s even if they're not turian and more and more are getting hold of VT7s. As for shuttles, even batarians  _ inside _ the hegemony have been known to use kodiaks."

"Will you shut up if I give you a model to paint?"

"Nope."

"What if I ask you nicely?"

"Doubt it. Hey, these spiky dudes would look awesome on your tank."

"They're not even the same species! I can't have them in my army."

"That's a little racist."

"It's not! It's a fictional game with made up species that existed long before First contact and you can't just mess with the lore. Besides, I'm not building a merc group, it's an official army. You don't have any aliens in the Alliance."

"Not sworn in as marines and supplied by us no, but there are plenty joint operations where we train and fight together with other species and we're always pinching each other's kit. You could totally have platoons from different armies fight alongside your main force."

"Look it's my army and I'll do what I want. If you think a mixed merc army would look good then get your own models."

"No thanks. Looks far too boring."

"You're just saying that because you don't have the patience to sit still long enough to work on them. Probably just as well really... it's far too fiddly for you to be any good at."

"Fuck off, too fiddly!" Came the incensed reply and Trish considered interrupting before things became too heated. However despite the seemingly antagonistic relationship between the two of them, they always seemed more than happy in each other's company. "Anything you can do I can do better."

All of a sudden Trish realised what it reminded her of, the interactions between the Shepard siblings all those years ago on Mindoir. The thought brought a smile to her face and a lump to her throat and she quickly retreated, not wanting to interrupt them. She was more than happy to continue eavesdropping though.

"Bet you the tank on page 3 you can't."

"That's a crap bet, I don't want a tank."

"Just as well, seeing as you're going to lose."

"I'm not poncing about with your stupid models."

"You just don't want to admit there's something I'm better at than you."

"You're very cocky for someone who hasn't even seen any evidence of my skills, you know I used to be a mechanic right? I can fiddle with things just fine when I want to."

"Oh sure, a mechanic, and how is that a demonstration of skill? You just slap omni-gel on things."

"You did  **_not_ ** just... Oh, that's it. Give me that paint brush, you're going down!" 

Ben shook his head with an impish grin, holding the brush out of reach.

"Not so fast, you got to build one yourself first." 

Shepard glared at him, before reaching out for the glue instead. Completely unaware how wrong her silent assertion was that the miniature figure would be both the first _and_ ** _last_** model she'd ever make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it for this book, I hope you all enjoyed it. It's a bit of a random stopping point I know, but when I was originally posting on FF the whole saga was one continuous story and Eden Prime is the next chapter. 
> 
> I hope you will continue to read the saga of Trish and Nikki as I cover the events of Mass Effect 1 in "The civilian and the spectre".


End file.
